His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. ‘Here we go again. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. He had been quite right to sit down. I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure. All she had found was the love of this dog. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself.
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