From midnight until morning he was now left alone. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. He could not move; but stood like one stupified, with his hands clasped together, and eyes almost starting out of their sockets, fixed upon his unfortunate parent. I guess. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away.
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