Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. ‘There are no Remenhams left. ” “Fine.
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