Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. “Delicious!” she murmured. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home.
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