I know my son's voice too well. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her. ” She replied. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. I can’t even make myself care. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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