Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. The man’s as obstinate as a mule. She’s hated me for no apparent reason ever since Fourth Grade. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter.
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