‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. Morality is a point of view. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it.
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