My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. He has no imagination, no real generosity. At second hand it would be unendurable. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk.
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