But always this new phase in life which civilization called convention threw up barrier after barrier. . Before she knew what had happened, Gosse turned suddenly, and vaulted one of the pews into the gap behind. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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