" Here she began to blubber loudly for sympathy. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home.
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