She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. “What are you doing?” He cried. . "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. ’ He held out his hand to help the girl descend. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face.
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