In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. Beware of him, my son! Beware of him! You know not what villany he is capable of. There will be no more children in this house, not ever! And if anyone ever tries bringing children into our house again, I shall kill the lot of them. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout.
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