You can't help that." The docile Stevie went along; but now he went along without pride, shamblingly, and muttering half words, and even words that would have been whole if they had not been made up of halves that did not belong to each other.

It was as though he had been trying to fit all the words he could remember to his sentiments in order to get some sort of corresponding idea.

And, as a matter of fact, he got it at last.

He hung back to utter it at once.
"Bad world for poor people." Directly he had expressed that thought he became aware that it was familiar to him already in all its consequences.

This circumstance strengthened his conviction immensely, but also augmented his indignation.