“All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. ” He fell back in his chair with an expression of tremendous desolation. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. ” He stroked her hand gently. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. It was all highly intriguing. "Yes, your son, Madam. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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