not to keep their suspicions in smother
Yes, this massive, spectacled Cockney dreamer is doing marvellous things these days — he is fantasticising the familiar, making us see our old town radiant in a new and odd light. Orthodoxy abounds in some graver Chestertonisms.
There was no comfort in the goodliness of spring or the bright sunshine weather, and she who had been wont to go about the doors lightfoot and blithe was now as dowie as a widow woman.
If souls be not unible, nor partible substances, there is no place for this doubt: if they be, they will be still what they are, notwithstanding any such union with a common soul.
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