“I thought they made knights of actors?” “They may of Hal some day,” said Gwen. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. ” The shock of their intellectual attitude was over, usage robbed it of the first quaint effect of deliberate unreason. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. “I’ve been,” she said, “forbidden to come. I would be chased by every curious party on this planet, by vampireseekers, by witch-hunters, by researchers, you name it.
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