His literary instincts were reviving. Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles.
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