Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. As long as I live here, you stop fucking the children and you stop trying to fuck me. “But you must forgive me, John. His instinct was in the direction of considering his daughters his absolute property, bound to obey him, his to give away or his to keep to be a comfort in his declining years just as he thought fit. "What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley.
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