" Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. You must—you shall be mine. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. Goopes down on him with the lesson Titian teaches so beautifully in his “Sacred and Profane Love,” and became quite eloquent upon the impossibility of any deception in the former. She felt that she was not alone.
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