"You have given shelter to an enemy of your class," he said.

"And not alone shelter, for you have given your love, yourself.

This is treason to your class.

Think not that you will escape being penalized." But it was before this that father returned one afternoon.

Ernest was with me, and we could see that father was angry--philosophically angry.
He was rarely really angry; but a certain measure of controlled anger he allowed himself.