"We went through your belongings. His hug became an embrace. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. 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. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. But they cut it all off.
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