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Aunt Fannie's asthma, with feminine perversity, was at its worst these March nights, and the Squire fine man that he was never let his nonimaginative sister know what it cost not to go to Madison with his son not to "hear him win the medal."
His devotion to his morbid, now thoroughly selfish wife lost him big opportunities. His nerves, too, suffered from the unceasing strain. Serious-minded, nonimaginative, honest, it never occurred to him that the illness of his "poor afflicted wife" was an illness of the soul only.