‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. ‘So now you will please to go away and leave me to my business. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. My son is going to build a spaceship to Mars someday right in this room. You ought to know that. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy.
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