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— O, he’ll remember all this when he grows up, said Dante hotly — the language he heard against God and religion and priests in his own home. — Let him remember too, cried Mr Casey to her from across the table, the language with which the priests and the priests’ pawns broke Parnell’s heart and hounded him into his grave. Let him remember that too when he grows up.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
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