\" He looked crestfallen. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. " "Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face. It may be, it probably will all come to, nothing. And the food! She and Marina had done most of the cooking at home. ’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again.
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