It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. "Be ruled by me," returned Thames. 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. “I wonder if they will seem altered,” she remarked for the third time.
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