She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. Sorvelli caught me! In Fourth Grade, I broke my arm because I tripped on a metal doorway. But I'm not worrying about that. You would not have believed me, I know well. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure.
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