If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. 'Sdeath! what can I have done with it? Oh! here it is," cried Hogarth, picking it from the ground. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention.
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