Mr. Your life is like a funeral March. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill.
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