“It’s very late. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. “Mr. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. It was now a quarter past twelve. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. "I can't make you understand; I can't make you see things as I see them.
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