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"Wrapped in a voluminous white blanket . . . there sat an old man apperntly about seventy years of age."
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"He was inclined to drowse off to sleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit which both irritated an frightened his young teacher."
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"Did his eyes deceive him, or had his hair turned . . . from white to iron-gray under its concealing dye?"
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"I'm very glad to meet you, Mr. Button. I'm expecting your son here any minute."
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" . . . he signalized his birthday by going to work for his father in Roger Button & Co., Wholesale Hardware."
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"'You and your brother got here just as we did, didn't you?' asked Hildegarde, looking up at him with eyes that were like bright blue enamel."
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"Hildegarde had chosen to marry for mellowness--and marry she did . . ."
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"At the outbreak of the Spanish-American war in 1898 his home had for him so little charm that he decided to join the army."
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"'Good Lord!' He said aloud. The process was continuing."
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"He was the most celebrated man in college"
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" . . . No one thought it 'the thing' to mention that the grubby little boy, apparently about 10 years of age . . . was the baby's own grandfather."
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"Then it was all dark, and his white crib and the dim faces that moved above him, and the warm sweet aroma of milk, faded out all together from his mind."