The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked. “I say!” he said, without any movement. "I'm glad to find I'm right. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. She taught me how to crochet and cross stitch. Of a certainty, she also was imbecile.
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