Father says no more letters without his permission, and he stamped his foot so hard that I think he must have made a dent in the floor.

Talk about slavery--what do you think of that?
Mother says that we must wait--that it would make father a great deal of trouble if it were known that I allowed you to write.

I guess the soul of old Grimshaw is still following you.

Well, we must stretch out that lovely day as far as we can.

Its words and its sunshine are always in my heart.