O'Higgins struck a match and lit his Henry Clay, thereby drawing upon himself the mutual disapproval of the spinsters. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. Happy Thanksgiving. ’ ‘Ah, you know about that, then?’ ‘That much, yes. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him.
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