It was a sovereign easily earned. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. I haven't much money; I don't know how much it is going to cost me to reach Hartford; so I fixed over a couple of my mother's dresses. . She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. He has no imagination, no real generosity.
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