His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. “Dare!” she said. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. But you had better know the truth to start with. “Just look that through, will you. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”.
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