The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. S. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. This was what he missed. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. 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. ‘Martha was my wet-nurse? But she is unmarried.
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