Really, Uncle Lawrence, I see no such profound sin or shame in it all, so long as I honestly pay the scot.

Do I cheat at cards?
Do I lie in the gutters ?" "No!" answered Lawrence.
"Do I steal ?" "Not that I know," said the other.
"Please, Uncle Lawrence, what do you mean, then ?" "I mean the way, the spirit in which you do things.

If you are not conscious of it, how can I make you?
I can not say more than I have.
I came merely--" "As a handwriting upon the wall, Uncle Lawrence ?" Lawrence Newt rose and stood a little back from the table.
"Yes, if you choose, as a handwriting on the wall.

Abel, when the prodigal son _came to himself_, he rose and went to his father.

I came to ask you to return to yourself." "From these husks, Sir ?" asked Abel, as he looked around his luxurious rooms, his eye falling last upon the French print of Lucille, fresh from the bath.
Lawrence Newt looked at his nephew with profound gravity.