Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person.
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