"
When Miss Milliken had withdrawn, Sir Mallaby occupied ten seconds of
the period which he had set aside for communion with his son in staring
silently at him.
"I'm glad you're back, Sam," he said at length. "I want to have a talk
with you. You know, it's time you were settling down. I've been
thinking about you while you were in America, and I've come to the
conclusion that I've been letting you drift along. Very bad for a young
man. You're getting on. I don't say you're senile, but you're not
twenty-one any longer, and at your age I was working like a beaver.
You've got to remember that life is--dash it! I've forgotten it again."
He broke off and puffed vigorously into the speaking tube. "Miss
Milliken, kindly repeat what you were saying just now about life....
Yes, yes, that's enough!" He put down the instrument. "Yes, life is
real, life is earnest," he said, gazing at Sam seriously, "and the
grave is not our goal. Lives of great men all remind us we can make our
lives sublime.
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