She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. But he was not a father one could make much of. He threw her on the bed. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude.
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