" There was a pause. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. "We must keep still. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. . Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good.
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