Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. There was a young lad ahead of her. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself.
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