She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. "Water!" he gasped. Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her benefactor hesitated to pronounce the word. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father. A widow for the fourth time, Mrs. It was true. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects.
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