"Get up, mother," cried Jack; "do not kneel to him. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. " "I'll bring you an armful this afternoon. I want to boast myself. But it is that I have a very bad temper, you understand. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. It is the vapouring school girl.
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