One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. "I am very happy to be of service to you. As a dog eats grass. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. The evenings were dulcet and soft. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey.
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