Jeanne was dry bread in the dark closet, for any crime, and dereliction of duty, I went to see banned in full forfeiture, and he slipped into the shadows a jar of jam unlawful. All those on which, in my city, lies the salvation of society, indignant, and Jeanne said in a soft voice
- I no longer touch my nose with my thumb, I'd do more scratching the kitty.
But there was rewritten:
- This child knows you. She knows how you are weak and cowardly. She sees you always laugh when we get angry. No government can. Every moment the order is disturbed by you and the power expands, more rule. The child who has nothing stops it. You demolish everything.
And I lowered my head and I said
- I have nothing to answer that, I'm wrong. Yes, it is with these indulgences-there that has always led people to their doom. Let me put on bread.
- You deserve it, certainly. There you will.
Jeanne then, in his dark corner, I whispered, raising her beautiful eyes to see, full of gentle authority of creatures:
- Well, I, I will suit you wear jams.
The art of being a grandfather .
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