"No," replied the old man, "but hurry and put the kettle on the fire.",
"To ask the question is a rudeness," she says, steadily, though her heart is cold and hurt. "Yet I will answer you. In our country, and in our class," with an amount of inborn pride impossible to translate, "we do not marry a man because he is 'rich,' or in other words, sell ourselves for gold.",
Mona, rising, pushes Violet gently into her own chair, a little black-and-gold wicker thing, gaudily cushioned..
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