At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. For a space he rode the whirligig. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation.
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