Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. " "With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin.
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