She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. If Martha knew all, she would certainly die of shock. I know that you were disappointed because I did not turn out to be the millionaire. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father.
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