. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. “For I know that you love Ennison. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive.
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