. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. Much more temperate; the discreet and joyless love of a virtuous, reluctant, condescending wife. “I do not think that he is quite dead. She held out her arms to him and smiled. He just walked in a few minutes ago. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. Death belongs to God, young man. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. " "Wear that to-night, then. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race.
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