“I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. She still had her letter of credit. Jonathan gave utterance to a low whistle. "Did I hear you …" began McClintock. Lucy wore it every day from then on. Such ambitions as he had were stereotyped and material. She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. "In with him!" "Ay—ay, yer hon'r," cried the foremost chairman, lending a helping hand. Now, do what you please. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude.
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