If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. And me, I wish to know why you have seen him. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. It reverberated in the silence. With your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil you are dumb and blind.
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