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Just then, Mr. Cave's step-son re-entered the shop from the inner
room--he had come home a minute or so before Mr. Cave--and he was
blaspheming freely. He was apprenticed to a second-hand furniture dealer
down the road, but he had his meals at home, and he was naturally
annoyed to find no dinner ready.
But, when he heard of the loss of the crystal, he forgot his meal, and
his anger was diverted from his mother to his step-father. Their first
idea, of course, was that he had hidden it. But Mr. Cave stoutly denied
all knowledge of its fate--freely offering his bedabbled affidavit in
the matter--and at last was worked up to the point of accusing, first,
his wife and then his step-son of having taken it with a view to a
private sale. So began an exceedingly acrimonious and emotional
discussion, which ended for Mrs. Cave in a peculiar nervous condition
midway between hysterics and amuck, and caused the step-son to be
half-an-hour late at the furniture establishment in the afternoon. Mr.
Cave took refuge from his wife's emotions in the shop.
In the evening the matter was resumed, with less passion and in a
judicial spirit, under the presidency of the step-daughter. The supper
passed unhappily and culminated in a painful scene. Mr. Cave gave way at
last to extreme exasperation, and went out banging the front door
violently. The rest of the family, having discussed him with the freedom
his absence warranted, hunted the house from garret to cellar, hoping to
light upon the crystal.
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