His name was Peter. 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. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight.
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