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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"The Son of the Wolf"


'I want my wife,' reiterated Bentham hoarsely, the intonation
savoring disagreeably of ownership.
Parker gasped, was within an ace of driving his fist into the
face of his boorish visitor, but held himself awkwardly in check.
Everybody rose. Lake lost his head and caught himself on the
verge of saying, 'Must you go?' Then began the farrago of
leave-taking. 'So nice of you--' 'I am awfully sorry' 'By Jove!
how things did brighten--' 'Really now, you--'
'Thank you ever so much--' 'Nice trip to Dawson--' etc., etc.
In this wise the lamb was helped into her jacket and led to the
slaughter. Then the door slammed, and they gazed woefully upon
the deserted table.
'Damn!' Langham had suffered disadvantages in his early training,
and his oaths were weak and monotonous. 'Damn!' he repeated,
vaguely conscious of the incompleteness and vainly struggling for
a more virile term. It is a clever woman who can fill out the
many weak places in an inefficient man, by her own indomitability,
re-enforce his vacillating nature, infuse her ambitious soul into
his, and spur him on to great achievements. And it is indeed a
very clever and tactful woman who can do all this, and do it so
subtly that the man receives all the credit and believes in his
inmost heart that everything is due to him and him alone.


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