E. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. It was a mad half-hour. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. I’ll have to think of something else. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. In the flagged entrance hallway at the bottom, where extra light came in from a window above the double doors, it was easy enough to distinguish a family group, and a landscape which clearly included Remenham House in the distance. But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston.
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