It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. On the way he confessed. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. The house became joyous again with the talk of babies and wedding festivities. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Sadly, the Christmas break came to an end. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. “Every one.
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