“Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. Still silence everywhere. Forgive my daring. ‘I am entirely English. Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to England. I’m in this apartment and looking for work because—Well, what else can I do, when my father practically locks me up?” “I know,” said Mr.
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