She remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money. I don’t know. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. \" Larry got up from his chair and trudged to the refrigerator, pouring himself a glass of milk from the never-ending supply of two percent. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him.
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