Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Here they would be having lunch.
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