“How old are you?” “Sixteen. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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