” She stirred gently in her chair. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. “My friend,” she said, “no! Let me tell you this. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. You have misunderstood. All my life I've had to fight human wolves to hold what I have.
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