The Mother's Recompense by Edith Wharton

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Anne, withdrawing from her mother's embrace, had decreed, in a decisive / tone: "And now I'm going to ring for Aline to tuck you up in bed. / And presently your dinner will be brought; consommé and chicken and / champagne. Is that what you'll like?"

"Exactly what I shall like. But why not share it with you downstairs?"

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