Gosse backed, not even attempting to parry so unorthodox a use of the foil. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvantages of some scheme he had in contemplation. ” Mrs. Your life is like a funeral March. \"Oh. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. "No more, please! I am bewildered enough. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear.
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