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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Magnificent Ambersons"

Well,
I thought, myself, it was a mistake."
"I should say so!"
"Yes," said Amberson. "I wanted him to put up an apartment building
instead of these houses."
"An apartment building! Here?"
"Yes; that was my idea."
George struck his hands together despairingly. "An apartment house!
Oh, my Lord!"
"Don't worry! Your grandfather wouldn't listen to me, but he'll wish
he had, some day. He says that people aren't going to live in
miserable little flats when they can get a whole house with some grass
in front and plenty of backyard behind. He sticks it out that
apartment houses will never do in a town of this type, and when I
pointed out to him that a dozen or so of 'em already are doing, he
claimed it was just the novelty, and that they'd all be empty as soon
as people got used to 'em. So he's putting up these houses."
"Is he getting miserly in his old age?"
"Hardly! Look what he gave Sydney and Amelia!"
"I don't mean he's a miser, of course," said George. "Heaven knows
he's liberal enough with mother and me; but why on earth didn't he
sell something or other rather than do a thing like this?"
"As a matter of fact," Amberson returned coolly, "I believe he has
sold something or other, from time to time.


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