And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. Part 2 She found the younger generation of the Widgetts engaged in languid reminiscences, and all, as they expressed it, a “bit decayed. Wow. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us.
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