The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. But it was not so ordered. No, this was imbecile. And now her father said she must not go. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. “I have the right to be here. But seriously, things are not so bad as you think. It was the first expression of the mother's blood.
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