Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. . After a series of mental gymnastics—occupying the space of a few seconds—it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen of the species. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. The movement was fatal to her son. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. But in that case, why the raging jealousy about Madame having taken her place.
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