” Sebastian drove on. Yes. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. ’ ‘Why should Gérard care?’ sneered Gosse. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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