Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. The biological laboratory had an atmosphere that was all its own. Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and indulgently.
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