One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. "But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. I didn't expect you home before that hour, Sir. "And now, I've one further request," faltered Jack; "though I scarcely know how to make it. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself.
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