One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality. A deadlock. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. “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. Both ladies were on easy and friendly terms with all that was best in Morningside Park society; they had an afternoon once a month that was quite well attended, they sometimes gave musical evenings, they dined out and gave a finish to people’s dinners, they had a full-sized croquet lawn and tennis beyond, and understood the art of bringing people together. But Jack and his companion were already gone. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly.
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