Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. And Suzanne, even that she has behaved to me not at all like a mother, would also not have said. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. I sat within a few feet of him. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her.
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