"There isn't any 'maybe.' I told him good-bye that night, papa.

It was before he knew about Walter--I told you." "Well, well," Adams said.

"Young people are entitled to their own privacy; I don't want to pry." He emptied his pipe into a chipped saucer on the table beside him, laid the pipe aside, and reverted to a former topic.

"Speaking of dying----" "Well, but we weren't!" Alice protested.
"Yes, about not knowing how to live till you're through living--and THEN maybe not!" he said, chuckling at his own determined pessimism.

"I see I'm pretty old because I talk this way--I remember my grandmother saying things a good deal like all what I'm saying now; I used to hear her at it when I was a young fellow--she was a right gloomy old lady, I remember.