It's rough on her
as it is, I suspect. You ought to have that deed."
"No. Don't bother him."
"I'll bother him as little as possible. I'll wait till some day when
he seems to brighten up a little."
But Amberson waited too long. The Major had already taken eleven
months since his daughter's death to think important things out. He
had got as far with them as he could, and there was nothing to detain
him longer in the world. One evening his grandson sat with him--the
Major seemed to like best to have young George with him, so far as
they were able to guess his preferences--and the old gentleman made a
queer gesture: he slapped his knee as if he had made a sudden
discovery, or else remembered that he had forgotten something.
George looked at him with an air of inquiry, but said nothing. He had
grown to be almost as silent as his grandfather. However, the Major
spoke without being questioned.
"It must be in the sun," he said. "There wasn't anything here but the
sun in the first place, and the earth came out of the sun, and we came
out of the earth.
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