At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance.
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