Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. I know nothing about the matter, but I feel convinced that you are right. “Okay, Mom. “I want to have no distractions. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand.
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