“So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. "I am one. But think of the disillusionment! Except for our sex we have minds like men, desires like men. ” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. ” She shocked him by that. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared.
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