The peasant women stood at the half-doors, the men stood here and there. It was wrong; it was unfair and cruel; and, as he sat in the refectory, he suffered time after time in memory the same humiliation until he began to wonder whether it might not really be that there was something in his face which made him look like a schemer and he wished he had a little mirror to see. "Well, old lady?" "Is there nothing--nothing at all that you want to tell me?" He turned off a little, facing round toward the wall and holding up his hand to look at as one had seen sick children look. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out-- "I want my own sort!" It literally made me bound forward.
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