I’m okay. ” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child. “You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the backbone. So let me assure you now that we are not accusing you of a crime. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. “Don’t bunch too much as you come out,” she added. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. "Certainly not," replied Gay. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart.
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