“I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. He strangled the infant, which slipped out of his hands and screamed. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. Such pretty manners, she thought.
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