I ain't a hypocrite, anyway.

We've got some good-fortune, and I'm glad of it, but I'd been enough sight gladder if it had come sooner, before bad fortune had taken away my rightful taste for it." "You won't have to work in the shop any longer, Henry." "I don't know whether I shall or not.

What in creation do you suppose I'm going to do all day--sit still and suck my thumbs ?" "You can work around the place." "Of course I can; but there'll be lots of time when there won't be any work to be done--then what?
To tell you the truth of it, Sylvia, I've had my nose held to the grindstone so long I don't know as it's in me to keep away from it and live, now." Henry had not been at work since Abrahama White's death.

He had been often in Sidney Meeks's office; only Sidney Meeks saw through Henry Whitman.

One day he laughed in his face, as the two men sat in his office, and Henry had been complaining of the lateness of his good-fortune.
"If your property has come too late, Henry," said he, "what's the use in keeping it?
What's the sense of keeping property that only aggravates you because it didn't come in your time instead of the Lord's?
I'll draw up a deed of gift on the spot, and Sylvia can sign it when you go home, and you can give the whole biling thing to foreign missions.