“Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. ” He whispered back as he pulled her pants and underwear off of her trembling legs. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. " Her utterance was here choked by sobs. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. You were very good. You can come back for these, for you’ll carry him to the gatehouse, that’s what you’ll do. Alors, one must steel oneself.
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