One May Be Clogged With Honey And

Don't Think To Come Over Me With Th' Old Tale, That The Rich Know Nothing Of The Trials Of The Poor; I Say, If They Don't Know, They Ought To Know.

I Say Gibson, We're Old Friends, And You're A Fool If You Take Anything I Say As An Offense. Madam Your Wife And I Didn't Hit It Off The Only Time I Ever Saw Her. I Won't Say She Was Silly, But I Think One Of Us Was Silly, And It Wasn't Me!

Mr Thornton Would Rather Have Heard That She Was Suffering The Natural Sorrow. In The First Place, There Was Selfishness Enough In Him To Have Taken Pleasure In The Idea That His Great Love Might Come In To Comfort And Console Her; Much The Same Kind Of Strange Passionate Pleasure Which Comes Stinging Through A Mother's Heart, When Her Drooping Infant Nestles Close To Her, And Is Dependent Upon Her For Everything.

Well, He Had Known What Love Was-a Sharp Pang, A Fierce Experience, In The Midst Of Whose Flames He Was Struggling! But, Through That Furnace He Would Fight His Way Out Into The Serenity Of Middle Age,-all The Richer And More Human For Having Known This Great Passion.

On Some Such Night As This She Remembered Promising To Herself To Live As Brave And Noble A Life As Any Heroine She Ever Read Or Heard Of In Romance, A Life Sans Peur Et Sans Reproche; It Had Seemed To Her Then That She Had Only To Will, And Such A Life Would Be Accomplished. And Now She Had Learnt That Not Only To Will, But Also To Pray, Was A Necessary Condition In The Truly Heroic. Trusting To Herself, She Had Fallen.