It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. . ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. 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. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. “It’s too bad.
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