Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. “What he had was altogether insufficient. To disillusion her, forthwith. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. Like the flaws of an old marble. " "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing.
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