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Martie, the Unconquered by Kathleen Thompson Norris
page 60 of 469 (12%)
meek, Sally would have been meek, but Martie's anger was her nearest
weapon. It angered her father in turn.

"Well, will you kindly remember in future that your ideas of what to
ask, and what not to ask, are not the ideas by which this house is
governed?" Malcolm asked magnificently.

"Yes, sir." Martie stirred as if to turn and go.

"One moment," Malcolm said discontentedly. "You thoroughly
understand me, do you?"

"Yes, sir." Martie's eyes met Len's discreetly raised over the edge
of his book and full of reproachful interest. She went into the
kitchen.

The spell of a nervous silence which had held the dining room was
broken. Mrs. Monroe and Lydia talked in low tones as they went to
and fro; Len shifted his position; Sally coming in with a plate of
sliced bread hummed contentedly. Martie appeared in her usual place
at supper, not too subdued to win a laugh even from her father with
some vivacious imitation of Miss Tate rallying the children for
Sunday School. Happiness was bubbling like a spring in her heart.

After dinner, the dishes being piled in the sink to greet Belle on
Monday morning, she went to the piano and crashed into "Just a Song
at Twilight," and "Oh, Promise Me," and "The Two Grenadiers." These
and many more songs were contained in a large, heavy album entitled
"Favourite Songs for the Home." Martie had a good voice; not better
than Sally's or Lydia's, but Sally and Lydia rarely sang. Martie had
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