Dave Cowan was reciting to himself: Enchanted ports we, too, shall touch; Cadiz or Cameroon-- Then he became conscious of the silent boy at his side, stepping noiselessly with bare feet.
"Life is funny," said Dave.
"Yes, sir," said Wilbur.
"Of course there's a catch in it somewhere." "Yes, sir." "That old girl back there, that old maid, she'll have to small-town it all her life.

I feel sorry for her, I do." "Yes, sir." But the sorrowing father now began to whistle cheerfully.

His grief had not overborne him.

A man who would call Judge Penniman Old Flapdoodle and question the worth of Matthew Arnold's acquaintance was not to be long downcast at the plight of one woman.

And he had done what man could for her.
They came to River Street, the street of shops, deserted and sleeping back of drawn curtains.