She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. It was better even than the hymn-singing. 1. “You are certain of this. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. “They are coming past our table. These amazing infants! Suddenly he came upon the true solution: that the boy hadn't meant to steal whatever it was he had stolen. " The lad made no answer, but left the room.
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