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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Magnificent Ambersons"

You and I could take care of
him the rest of his life on what grandfather--"
"Of course," she agreed. "But your father's always lived so for his
business and taken such pride in his sound investments; it's a passion
with him. I--"
"Pshaw! He needn't worry! You tell him we'll look after him: we'll
build him a little stone bank in the backyard, if he busts up, and he
can go and put his pennies in it every morning. That'll keep him just
as happy as he ever was!" He kissed her. "Good-night, I'm going to
tell Lucy good-bye. Don't sit up for me."
She walked to the front gate with him, still holding his hand, and he
told her again not to "sit up" for him.
"Yes, I will," she laughed. "You won't be very late."
"Well--it's my last night."
"But I know Lucy, and she knows I want to see you, too, your last
night. You'll see: she'll send you home promptly at eleven!"
But she was mistaken: Lucy sent him home promptly at ten.


Chapter XII

Isabel's uneasiness about her husbands health--sometimes reflected in
her letters to George during the winter that followed--had not been
alleviated when the accredited Senior returned for his next summer
vacation, and she confided to him in his room, soon after his arrival,
that "something" the doctor had said to her lately had made her more
uneasy than ever.


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