You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. Well, let's beat it to the hotel. ‘I’ll send one of my men to see you here this very evening. " "But warn the aunt, prepare her, if she lives. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall.
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