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A Loophole

           Gradgrind.‘Inthisdegradedposition!Iamamazed.’

           ‘Iwastired,father.Ihavebeentiredalongtime,’saidLouisa.

           ‘Tired?Ofwhat?’askedtheastonishedfather.

           ‘Idon’tknowofwhatofeverything,Ithink.’

           ‘Saynotanotherword,’returnedMr.Gradgrind.‘Youarechildish.Iwillhearnomore.’Hedidnotspeakagainuntiltheyhadwalkedsomehalf-a-mileinsilence,whenhegravelybrokeoutwith:‘Whatwouldyourbestfriendssay,Louisa?Doyouattachnovaluetotheirgoodopinion?WhatwouldMr.Bounderbysay?’Atthementionofthisname,hisdaughterstolealookathim,remarkableforitsintenseandsearchingcharacter.Hesawnothingofit,forbeforehelookedather,shehadagaincastdownhereyes!

           ‘What,’herepeatedpresently,‘wouldMr.Bounderbysay?’AllthewaytoStoneLodge,aswithgraveindignationheledthetwodelinquentshome,herepeatedatintervals‘WhatwouldMr.Bounderbysay?’asifMr.BounderbyhadbeenMrs.Grundy.

           

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