"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. He went to Harvard instead. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. I was rude and stupid. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. CHAPTER XXVI. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor.
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