Sit down, I command you. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. ‘You’re right. Trust you.
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