Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. I almost wish we hadn't come. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them.
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