On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. This is my first venture over here. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong.
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