She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. At least until we graduate. Her head rose. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. —I'll give him the edication of a prig,—teach him the use of his forks betimes,—and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father. You see, I’m separated from my wife.
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