He threw her on the bed. ‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. Her heart swelled to suffocation. "Tell me that, and I will believe you.
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