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Fein came to dinner, there were two tremendous secrets: For her personal life, her life outside the office, she had found a way out such as might, perhaps, solve the question of loneliness for the thousands of other empty-hearted, fruitlessly aging office-women. Not love of a man. She would rather die than have Schwirtz's clumsy feet trampling her reserve again.

She did continue being as she was being living. She did say all of enough of that thing. She did say what she said of being living. She did feel what she felt of continuing. She was what she had been in being. She was what she was and she was all there was and that was all of that one. She was continuing in arriving where she would be fading. She was weakening in aging where she would be ceasing.

Too much starch causes acidity and hardening. The fruits and the light vegetables have a tendency to overcome these degenerating processes. Starch is surely the chief offender in aging people. It is such a concentrated food that overeating is easy, especially when it is taken in the soft forms, such as mushes, fresh bread, griddle cakes and mashed potatoes.

With the inertness that grows upon an aging man he had been used to delegating more and more things, but of that thing I perceived that he would not delegate the least detail.

He has, like the aging Emerson, taken in sail; the god Terminus has said to him, "no more." One must of course admit that the typical romanticist has often been characterized by certain intellectual and moral weaknesses. But the great romance men, like Edmund Spenser, for example, may not possess these weaknesses at all.

Dark ruby light circled and glanced through his Cabernet Sauvignon. By dessert, Alison had told him that she was from a small town near Madison, Wisconsin, that her father had been an inventor, that her mother was still alive, aging and in need of care. "My father was hurt in an accident at work. I had to take care of him when I wasn't in school. My mother always had other jobs. He was strict.

When Duge looked up again, Vine seemed to notice for the first time that his visitor was aging. "Norris Vine," he said, "you and I have been enemies since the day when we became aware of one another's existence. We represent different principles. There is not a point in life on which our interests, as well as our theories, do not clash.

Major Hunter and I were a unit in business matters, and after an exchange of views by letter, it was agreed to run down to the capital and hold a conference with the promoters of the proposed company. My parents were aging fast, and now that I was moderately wealthy it was a pleasure to drop in on them for a week and hearten their declining years.

At last there came the time when I must set my face toward the east. It seemed a treachery to say good-bye to my aging parents, leaving them and my untrained sister to this barren, empty, laborious life on the plain, whilst I returned to the music, the drama, the inspiration, the glory of Boston. Opposite poles of the world could not be farther apart.

In the good fellowship of that cordial neighborhood we had two such days as the aging sun no longer shines on in his round. There was constant running in and out of friendly houses where the lively hosts and guests called one another by their Christian names or nicknames, and no such vain ceremony as knocking or ringing at doors.