Oscar woke up in the morning, at an unspecified time, still in the arms of the villain. At first, he did not know very well what it was that took him out of the world of dreams so suddenly. But still not wanting to let go of Albert's warmth, he clung even tighter to his waist, refusing to let go.
That must have put Albert in an embarrassing position, while the knocks on the door became more repetitive and loud as if, at any moment, someone was going to knock it down if those who were inside the room did not allow him to pass. .
"I think I should open," Albert had muttered, carefully trying to free himself from a still half-asleep Oscar.
"Let them keep calling," Oscar asked in turn. “Nothing good must have been lost to someone if someone came to go around screwing around at this hour!”
Although Oscar said this, Albert must have realized that the clock on the wall already marked eleven past in the morning. And while he, too, remained extremely comfortable snuggling up to Oscar all night, he feared that if he didn't open the door, something bad would happen. Something like, having managed to worry the person behind it, he notified the owner of the establishment and it occurred to them to enter using a master key, finding them both still in bed.
Hence, apologizing under his breath, Albert hurriedly put on his pants and headed for a door which the pounding stopped at the very moment he opened it.
And what about what happened next? Oscar didn't know much, because he only began to stretch when the noise stopped and he felt that, with all certainty, there was no one next to him. There was a very brief conversation in the doorway. It lasted so little that Oscar didn't even have time to discern what they were saying to each other or what annoying character it was that Albert had run into before he closed the door again and went back to get the rest of his clothes.
“Who was it?” Oscar asked, sitting up at last.
"Miss Warren." Seeing that calling her that somewhat puzzled Oscar, Albert had to be more specific. “That witch next door you warned me about.”
"Oh, and what did she want?"
“I have no idea. She asked about you, but when I told her you were still in bed, she hurriedly excused herself and left, saying she was in a hurry.” After a moment's thought, he added. “It seemed to me that she had looked into the room, towards where you were, although I immediately placed myself blocking the door. It seems that you were right about the fact that you should be careful with her, if she spends time spying on people like that.”
Oscar could imagine what Dianne must have been thinking in those seconds when he must have given her time to make a quick scan of the room. Neither he nor the villain had pajamas on. One because he did not own such a garment and the other because he had left it at Thornfield; hence they had to sleep in their underwear, leaving the clothes they wore the day before aside. Then, they had gotten up late and when the villain opened the door he was half dressed and unkempt. The normal thing, come on. But the author had a real talent for turning the ordinary into an extraordinary situation, in the worst possible way.
"It's great that she left," Oscar commented, getting out of bed, while he thought that he didn't feel like dealing with her that day. “I was going to tell you that if it was Dianne you should send her to hell, but it seems that she already sent herself.”
"Leaving aside that woman and whatever she wanted, is there by any chance no place to shower at this inn?"
“There's a room downstairs for that. But, if you want to use it, you have to notify the owner so that he can prepare the hot water for you.”
From the way Oscar said it, it was understood that in that place they did not have a bathtub. And that, if someone wanted to take a bath, they had to use the usual basin. Which took a while to fill and, furthermore, was impossible to use without the local media finding out.
"I think I'll wait until I get to Thornfield," Albert concluded, finishing dressing. “I'd buy you some breakfast, but I don't think they'll serve anything at this point.”
"You can always invite me to lunch." Now, ascertaining what time it was, Oscar added, grabbing his own clothes. “But another day! I've skipped work long enough, Mr. Simmons will kill me if I don't drop by the office by noon.”
Why had he had the brilliant idea of sending him a telegram, before leaving Oxford, advising that he would be able to return to his job early in the morning that day? Damn, that was totally unnecessary! But Oscar did the same, out of ethics. Well, despite the fact that he did not require his constant presence in the newspaper, he did prefer to stop by often, so that they could see he was making an effort with his writings.
And Albert had no objection either, as it was a question of leaving eating together for another time; considering the fight he had had with his father, and that he would surely ask for explanations about where he spent the night and why he took so long to come back, it wasn't his interest to delay his return any longer.
After having dressed and cleaned up a bit, using the water from a jug that always remained in a timely manner on a dresser, next to a small bucket, the villain left, saying goodbye with the same haste with which the writer had done before.
Despite the fact that Oscar had asked him if he could go talk to his father, in order to help him clear things up, Albert replied that it was not the time yet. From what he had told before leaving, his idea was to try to reason with his father through diplomatic channels, alone. At least until they managed to reach a certain consensus, since he had a theory that if Oscar showed up for Thornfield at that moment, the result would not be positive at all.
So while the villain was trying to get the waters back on him in his own house, it would be best if Oscar didn't show up.
And Oscar didn't want to lose the only place he could call home in this new age he was living in, nor did he want to cause Albert more problems. So he agreed to that request to stay out of it, without question. It wouldn't last long anyway; while he was working on the newspaper and, perhaps, meeting with his aunt and uncle, Albert would proceed to solve his own dramas. Because of this, they had arranged to see each other again that night. Both to update each other on their respective misadventures, and to decide, together, on a course of action.
Oscar hoped that, for once, bad luck would take a little away from him and allow them to have some peace. Even if it was only for a few days.
And it must have had some effect because, when he finally reached the local press offices, he didn't have to face any incidents. It was true that they gave him a lecture for arriving late, and that some of the workers looked at him as if he had just left a circus. But, discounting this, there was no abnormality in his routine or in the comments made to him. Everything seemed amazingly proper, as if, despite having learned about a private matter they shouldn't know about, they were making an effort to forget it or, at least, not blame it.
It was dangerously strange, if one were allowed to say.
Around the town, and with the people he passed and who deigned to speak to him, it was more of the same. It was uncomfortable for Oscar to attract so much attention, but he could bear it if they chose to ignore him and not try to draw him out of sheer morbidity, as he already imagined that the author would try to do as soon as she caught him on the bandwagon.
In any case, he wasn't going to let that be the main topic of the day. If the others wanted to continue gossiping while he wasn't there to listen, go ahead. He didn't care. What harm could they do, despite everything? That is, even if certain gossip were taken for true, could there really be legal consequences? It was no longer just that there was no tangible evidence that he and Albert had a relationship beyond friendship, it was that the Northrop family was one of the most prosperous in the village, second only to the Seymours. If the police wanted, at the very least, to blame Oscar for his behavior, he supposed they should have done so by now.
Hence, although it was a bit difficult at first, in the end he was able to concentrate on his manuscript, spending the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon at the newspaper's office. Just stopping his creative urge for a little break at lunchtime.
His work for the day finished, and having obtained permission from Mr. Simmons to retire, he proceeded to the Cornells' new home. Mentalizing that now he would have to do what, possibly, would be the least appealing of the day.
It might have been a little less awkward if the family were still living at Rose Cottage, for Rose Cottage had a back door through which servants used to come and go during the day, unnoticed by the masters. But here, instead, the building had only one front door to be used by both the owners and their servants.
With the consequence that, since the facade faced one of the busiest streets in Snodland, anyone could watch as Oscar ducked his head and stooped down to visit the abode of his former employers. Something not very usual, since in recent months —and especially since that accurate blow he dealt Thomas— the relationship with the Stevens had cooled to the point that uncle and nephew barely spoke to each other.
It was not an abrupt change, but a gradual one. It could not even be said that the Stevens were angry with Oscar for his previous performance with his son; he had already apologized for that, being sincere when he said it was an outburst that would never happen again. Simply, if these people had drifted apart, it was because each of them had been busy with their own business: the Stevenses with the move and he with his own work.
Although there was something to regret, the cordiality had not ceased at that point.
“Oscar? How come you´re here?” Mallory had shown, surprised, opening the door for him. “I mean, it's appreciated that you drop by these parts from time to time. But isn't that a bit risky? I think Madeleine is still upset with you, even if she doesn't show it.”
"It is fortunate, then, that I have no intention of seeing her. Are my uncles at home?”
"Just Mr. Stevens, your aunt is out with Madeleine and company to supervise while they go shopping. You know, since now they are left without a governess and are idle, they go out more often. But the master doesn't want them to spend or owe more than they can afford, so...”
"Better this way, I feel that if I were to talk to Aunt Cathy, I would be speechless at the first reply," Oscar thought aloud; Mrs. Stevens was not one of those who kept quiet about what she thought, quite the opposite of her husband. “I can come in?”
“Oh, sure! But keep quiet, we don't want to disturb anyone.”
"Is there anyone else at home?"
“Well, Mrs. Cornell has met with the parish group. Lately she goes out with them quite often, and I understand her well, since there is not much to do here. Theresa is in the living room, engrossed in her books, and the master...”
Mallory did not need to specify where Edmund Cornell was, because the aforementioned almost collided with a sideboard when he left one of the rooms, newspaper in hand, as he ascertained who was the person who had just entered his humble abode.
Oscar went to greet him, but Mr. Cornell turned around and pretended he hadn't seen anything, walking into another room and closing the door behind him. He may have been exaggerated, since from the corridor they could even hear him turning the key. That fool had shut himself away without saying a word! It was unheard of. Despite the fact that Oscar had already settled the matter he had with him, and having no intention of trying to blackmail him again, it seemed that the guy was still afraid of him.
“It seems your presence continues to make an impact even though you've been gone for months.”
Oscar ignored the mocking tone with which that nuance was pronounced and asked Mallory to take him to her uncle.
Luckily for him, Mallory wasn't one to go where no one called her. And although it was clear that she wanted to ask what was this sudden eagerness to see his uncle when he had barely visited them three or four times since January, or what were those documents that he had been clutching since he entered, she did not.
Instead, she just ushered the unsuspecting guest into one of the now empty parlors, asking him to wait while she alerted Mr. Stevens. Ordinarily, she would have led him to the person she wanted to see. But, as Oscar had specified that he had come to discuss a family matter and would like to have a private conversation, Mallory thought it more appropriate to have the two involved meet separately, rather than usher Oscar into the servants' wing, where there was likely to be a break. to meet more familiar faces.
That way of doing things was a relief to Oscar; it was a good thing Mallory had been the one to let him in. If it had been Cook or Aunt Cathy herself, they would have started questioning him from the moment he stepped foot in the corridor. With Mallory, on the other hand, not only did he not have to explain himself, but he was able to use that time alone to think through what he would say when he ran into Uncle Rob.
Now, who was to say that, quiet as the individual was, he was the one to start the conversation? And here he was, not five minutes after the efficient maid had disappeared, the Rob Stevens himself.
“If you want my blessing so you can continue courting Mr. Northrop, you won't get it. The only reason you haven't been arrested yet is because that family is one of the biggest benefactors in the area and it's not right that their support be withdrawn,” he had said in an incredibly neutral tone. Personally, I don't give a damn if you hang out with a man, a woman, or a stone. But Cathy is obsessed with the fact that you and your cousin must find good women, get married and start a family. And I'm not here to contradict him!”
“What? No, I didn't come for that.”
Although, since he mentioned it…
Oscar wondered how far the rumors had gotten for someone so unwilling to listen to them to come up with this. In addition, he was well aware that if he had chosen anyone else as a partner he would have had to be much more careful: With Albert they could not get so involved because, apart from coming from the family that came, his character was complicated for those who did not know him.
Come on, like any self-respecting villain, they were afraid of his reaction and therefore did not dare to make him angry.
"You got my last letter, right?" The one I sent you from Oxford, I mean.” Seeing his uncle nod, he continued. “I was just passing by to give you the documents I told you about.”
"I imagined it. You know? You weren't the only one who contacted us to talk to us about it; Thomas did too. In fact, it was somewhat surprising that both letters reached us just two days apart.”
"So he finally wrote to tell you about it…" Oscar murmured thoughtfully. “He had told me that he would do it right away when I showed up at his new business, but I didn't think he was going to do it in such a hurry. After all, he had been avoiding the subject for so many months that he wasn't sure when he would proceed to break the ice.”
Although that was a lie, perhaps told to soften a little the effect that hearing that his child was doing something wrong could have on a father. Oscar knew that Thomas's next step would naturally be to confess everything to his parents. That had to be the plan from the moment they both met in Oxford, without discussion possible.
Thomas didn't even have to state his plans out loud for Oscar to already know.
And what to say about it? He still didn't know how the Stevenses took the news that his cousin had dropped out of college. Therefore, it would be better to choose your next sentences wisely.
"Do you want to read what he wrote to us?"
“Could I?”
Of course he could, Mr. Stevens already had everything set up. It seemed that those couple of minutes that it took him to arrive he had used them to pick up the letter addressed to his wife and put it in his pocket, with an idea of showing it.
Just as Oscar wanted to test the waters before spilling all the information he had, Uncle Rob seemed to want to do the same with him. Hence, he collected the documents that were given to him and, in turn, gave that crude missive to his nephew. Being that they could resume their talk once both had reviewed, at least superficially, the papers that each had at their disposal.
It was a little uncomfortable, that calm, but at the same time, it was also reassuring to see how Mr. Stevens took a seat in an armchair while turning the pages of that folder that was handed to him. If he had been his wife, she would have argued before stopping to read anything. It was no longer said to give him the power of Thomas's letter; that would even be off limits.
Wanting to make the most of this tiny advantage that would be provided, Oscar began to read.
"Dear mother:
You are reading story How to survive the worst novel ever written at novel35.com
"How is everyone out there? I hope you continue to enjoy good health and excellent spirits. As for me, what leads me to write to you today is not exactly a good thing. Although, God willing, it shouldn't be too bad either.
"I don't know if my dear cousin will have managed to tell you when you receive this letter, because I asked him to keep it a secret so that I could give you and father a surprise, and the last time I saw him he was not very willing not to tell you and help me. But hey, whatever. I'll take the trouble to explain it here. Since, although I consider these things should be better said in person, right now it is impossible for me to go to Snodland.
»I left college.
"The reason? Let's say there were two main reasons. The first, that after a few months of studying, I concluded the degree was not for me. That no matter how hard I tried, what I was doing didn't fill me. Oscar, when he found out, very kindly recommended that I enroll in another course… And I considered it, yes. But, after much thought, I decided the university does not fulfill me as a human being.
“I wanted to continue, so as not to disappoint you or waste the money you sent, but it soon became impossible for me to do so.
“And here's the second reason: As I was considering how I could make a living without staying in college, it occurred to me that I might partner with a couple of my friends. Vincent, James and Lowell, they are called. Although I think I've told you about Lowell before, in fact you met him on a visit last year...
"But where I was going…
“We had been thinking together for a few months, until we finally hit on the right idea. Which consisted of setting up a gallery located in the heart of the city, where we would dedicate ourselves to holding exhibitions of renowned artists and in which, likewise, we would take care of establishing a headquarters to find new talents that would bring some culture to the place.
“Of course, you couldn't say we're experts on the subject, since we've only just started in this, but we do have the drive and the ability: Lowell has spent years helping his father with the accounting of the company he runs, Vincent tends to move in large social circles, so he knows a lot of people and knows about marketing. Then James… James is strong. With him on board, we don't need to worry about hiring porters when it comes to installing new pieces of art.
“As for me, and although I have to consider myself a rookie compared to him, I am the one who helps Vincent in his mission to recruit new artists, suppliers and clients.
“I know I should have told you about all this earlier, and I apologize for that, but I wanted to get everything tied up before I broke the news to you. And it is that, in part, that was what this letter came for.
»I'm doing great in my new job! I am in a good mood, I´ve managed to adapt easily and, what is more, I am earning good money for doing what I like.
»Each month we hold new events and exhibitions, attracting customers from all over the country. We haven't even been open for a year and, despite this, there are many artists who decide to trust us and put their works in our hands. It's great! You should, by the way, come take a look at this place. I think you'd love how we've put it together.
“I guess you're also wondering where I live now. Being that, although the letters you sent continued to be received from the campus (and I have friends there who do me the favor of picking them up for me), it's been a while since I left that dorm. Right now I have moved to the building where we have set up our business, since the upper floor of the gallery is large enough and has the facilities for one to live in total comfort.
“I'll attach the address here, by the way, in case you want to stop by to check that the place is still standing and is a decent house to stay or just to visit. Of course, I would be delighted to give you a tour of our latest exhibition!
“Finally, I would like to reiterate my apologies for making the decision to move and drop out of college without consulting you. I am sorry about it, I assure you. That is why I would like to give you back the money you saved over all these years so that I could get here: Starting now, and every time I write to you, I will try to enclose a part of the income I get.
“Hopefully, if the Cornells give you a break from your obligations, you can use the money to pay for a vacation. And who knows? Maybe drop by Oxford one of these days. I will be waiting for you with open arms.
After a parting line too sweet for Oscar's liking, Thomas had added a postscript:
“Don't get mad at Oscar for coming to see me and getting the documents that prove my inexcusable lack of commitment in my career, because he believed he was doing the right thing. It is true that this lack of confidence in me hurts, since he had asked for some time before telling you so he could give good news about how well the business was going, but it doesn't matter anymore. What are you going to do? One cannot always receive the same thing that he asks for himself. And to think that I did so graciously keep the secret of who I was hanging out with for all these months...”
“Oh, but I won't talk about that. I think it's my cousin who should confess it to you when he feels it's time. Until then, I can only ask you to continue supporting him despite the mistakes he may make”.
The letter ended there and, under other circumstances, it was likely that his uncles would have inquired as to which mysterious person he was referring to when he said that he was seeing someone. But of course, with all those rumors freely circulating around the village, now such a question was not accurate.
Inside the envelope, Oscar found a check made out by Thomas, made out to Mr. Stevens, for an amount that far exceeded the monthly pay he earned from his employment with the local press.
Once again, where had he acquired such an amount when in January even he tried to wheedle his own cousin for the few pounds he had saved? He didn't know it yet, but one of the last stops he and Albert made in Oxford before heading back to the villa came to mind: a private detective's office.
That's what Oscar meant when he said that he wasn't going to let the matter die but, at the same time, he wasn't going to get into it either. Thus, apart from staying a few more days sightseeing in the city, they took care of hiring a professional to keep track of Thomas and his henchmen.
It was still too early to tell if the gallery business was legal or not, but one day he would find out. The detectives they hired for this job would be in charge of keeping them informed of the progress of the investigation as the weeks passed and they gathered more useful information about the whole mess.
"You who've been to Thomas's place," Uncle Rob proceeded, seeing his nephew put the letter aside, having finished reading it, "do you think he's doing well?"
"It seems so, yes."
He wasn't going to speak his suspicions out loud until they were confirmed, so he could only cast his eyes aside and pretend that everything he had seen and heard from Thomas was the truth. He would not exaggerate what was attested, but neither would he venture into empty guesswork.
"As I have seen, it seemed to me that the exhibition did not have a large public," he continued. Although it is also true that I have remained in Oxford for a very short period, without being able to attend any event organized by Thomas and his friends. Besides, I don't have much of an idea about the local accounts or about how many patrons are needed to keep a place like that afloat...”After stopping for a moment in his reflection, he ended up concluding after a few seconds. “But Thomas seemed animated. So I suppose that, as he said in his letter, it would be better if you went to visit him one day and let him tell you how the business works for him.
"Yes, that would be an option, although I suspect your aunt will insist that we won't take Thomas's hard-earned money," said Uncle Rob, getting to his feet after sitting in a chair for a long time. He glanced at the papers. I can see from his last semester grades that he was having a hard time in that major. And I don't blame him, it was Cathy who insisted that he should study. I didn't want to force him.
“Now it's all in the past.”
Oscar bit his tongue so as not to hurl an insult or blame them for not providing the funds to him. In truth, at that time the original Oscar still existed... And he really would not have taken advantage of anything that could have been granted in that regard. Ergo, it was better to keep quiet.
“It's in the past and there's no turning back, eh? But well, I'm glad that at least he's doing well in the city: studies are the least of it. The important thing is to have the necessary commitment to get ahead, if not studying, let it be working and earning a salary that at least covers basic needs. At the end of the day, that learning will end up being done over time. It doesn't have to be necessary to set foot in a classroom.”
Oscar couldn't argue anything against that. Not only because he had an opinion that was not far from that, but because, in all those months that he remained in the novel, he had been the living example that he did not need to pursue higher education to progress in life. Or, perhaps better said, to go bumping around until he found a place where he was treated well and whose salary was not so miserable.
"And here I came with every intention of clearing up the misunderstanding about Thomas," Oscar sighed, though without a hint of regret. But better this way, he supposed that with this letter he could save everything.
Everything, including the part of the story where Thomas was stealing from the Northrops, which he conveniently didn't mention in his missive.
"Wait, before you leave again. Will you come back here to visit?”
“Can I return?”
"You'll probably get more than one scolding from your aunt," Uncle Rob confessed. “As much for showing up at the university asking about your cousin without letting us know as for hanging out with that Northrop. You couldn't have picked the sister, by the way? Even if this is of no consequence now, despite the malicious rumors circulating, what will happen when he decides to leave you? Do you think the authorities would turn a blind eye once Albert Northrop withdraws your protection from him?”
'Things turned out differently, I'm afraid. And, regarding the other issues, nothing bad will happen. Although I don't think our relationship will end soon, I can't guarantee that it will last forever. If it ends... Well, to be honest, I can't imagine Albert getting so aggressive as to involve third parties in a larger conflict.”
No, as ironic as it seemed, the villain seemed one of the most peaceful beings in that soap opera. At such a point in the story, it was clear to Oscar that if one day he were to have problems, whether due to sodomy or any other altercation, this would not be caused by Albert. Not consciously, at least.
On the other hand, choosing Letitia was never an option for him. Not only because he was not a fan of interacting with adolescents in this way—since, in general, he considered them too immature to remain in a stable relationship—but because when he began to know her, he had only just arrived in this universe created by an author who wasn't even using all her neurons for her writing task. In short, he had no head to think about who would be a good match for romance!
The thing with Albert was simply something that, over time, happened.
"Then you do admit the rumors are true," Mr. Stevens muttered to himself before inquiring in his usual tone. “Can I ask why?”
“What? How why?”
Did he need to explain it with a sketch? If there was one thing that resembled his original character, it was that they both took love intentions seriously. Which meant that, if they wanted to be with someone, they did it out of preference and not with a view to obtaining some kind of benefit.
But how was he going to explain to someone that he had fallen in love with the villain? Whether the object of his affection was a man or a woman, it was absurd for him to explain himself. He didn't even know what Uncle Rob expected to hear! He had only admitted the obvious to her because he didn't seem willing to start a fight, much less recriminate her.
"I thought it was Madeleine you were interested in."
“That was a long time ago.”
“And a mistake”, he would have liked to point out. But, in such a conservative society, couldn't they turn the tables and call their new choice of partner a mistake?
"Have you changed your tastes, if so? Oh never mind, don't explain anything to me. I prefer not to know.”
"Maybe I have changed my tastes or, at least, it's not interest that moves me, as some around town say," Oscar commented under his breath. “Do you think it would be convenient to mention it to my aunt? I didn't mean to hide this from you, but I don't want to cause a fuss either. After all, I just want to try to live on my own and now more than ever, with all the scandal that has been organized, I would prefer not to involve you in all this rumours.”
“She is already aware of these gossips, she only has to know if they are true or not. As for whether or not she would want me to know… As I said before, it was always her dream that you would find a good woman to marry and start a family of your own. Being that your parents passed away so long ago, I guess that's why Cathy is especially adamant that you finally be able to find someone on your own, not having to rely on us forever as your only close relatives.”
“I am aware that it is not a very common choice of mine.”
Not here, at least.
"I can try to talk to her first, to smooth things over. But you're going to take the sermon anyway if you tell her about it.”
“Wait, you don't mind me being with Albert Northrop like that?”
“I wouldn't go so far as to say I don't mind; I would also prefer that you had chosen Letitia or any other girl, even if she was not of such a good position. But, to speak frankly to you, with the timid personality that you always had, I suspected that you were going to stay to dress saints. It's good that you've at least matured a bit.”
"Matured, he says," Oscar murmured, trying to contain his laughter.
Rather, the correct thing would be to say "transmigrated", because the original character never had any development. Neither in terms of character, much less about his personal relationships.
“I'm not saying I approve of it, or that I´m going to support you,” Rob continued. “If Cathy doesn't agree, I won't even try to convince her to reconsider. I think it is reckless of you to be with another man, whatever your reasons for it. But, at the same time, you are already an adult. If you don't involve us in your entanglements, I don't mind pretending I haven't seen or heard anything.”
That arrangement was more than Oscar could ask for, so he obviously happily accepted it.
He didn't expect his uncles to accept this new reality. In fact, quite the opposite; what he expected, if they brought it up at all, would have been a two-hour talk about how terrible he was handling his existence. Talk that, by the way, he should leave grateful that his uncles hadn't called the police.
And it is that, although these people could be intolerant or conservative, they were not bad: Oscar was convinced that, even if he had also had the opportunity to talk about this with Cathy, the result would not have been very different. They might have stopped to talk to him more, raising their voices and going so far as to leave on bad terms, barring him from the Cornell house from then on. But the Stevenses weren't cruel. They could disown his nephew, ignore him or talk about him to other people as if he were a relative already given up for worldly vices, but they would not go so far as to attack him directly, publicly accusing him.
Knowing this, Oscar calmed down a bit. He would let Uncle Rob talk to his wife before proceeding to talk to her himself. Then he would see.
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