Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. Most unsatisfactory. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. Our ideal had fallen. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. Never had her father explained.
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