But, be like a son to her. The lad looked alarmed. Then instinct took over. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. " "I will take you. We struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. ’ ‘That is not your affair. “Well!” she declared good-humouredly.
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