“But a boy—a boy goes out into the world and presently stands on his own feet. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. A blow from the iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop. ’. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. The chance had gone. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. ” He shook her diminutive hand.
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