” She turned away. 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. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. But that's his American education. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy.
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