Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted.
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