I felt, in a fierce rigor of confidence, that if I stood my ground a minute I should cease--for the time, at least-- to have him to reckon with; and during the minute, accordingly, the thing was as human and hideous as a real interview: hideous just because it WAS human, as human as to have met alone, in the small hours, in a sleeping house, some enemy, some adventurer, some criminal. Their voices reached his ears as if from a distance in interrupted pulsation. What was it you had in mind when, in our distress, before Miles came back, over the letter from his school, you said, under my insistence, that you didn't pretend for him that he had not literally EVER been `bad'? He has NOT literally `ever,' in these weeks that I myself have lived with him and so closely watched him; he has been an imperturbable little prodigy of delightful, lovable goodness. This time about Bruno the Nolan.
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