Last edited by mea505; 06-12-2009 at 03:59 PM.
Why, the whole point, the real sting of it lay in the fact that continually, even in the moment of the acutest spleen, I was inwardly conscious with shame that I was not a spiteful. I am a sicker man! I might foam at the mouth, but bring me a doll to play with, bring me a cup of tea with sugar in it, and maybe I will be appeased! I might even genuinely be touched, though probably I should grind my teeth at myself afterward and lie awake at night with shame for months after. That is my way.