In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. . The dance itself was anticlimactic, with teenagers trying their best to look the part of adult sophisticates on the dance floor. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper.
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