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” He said. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. We’ll leave him here, with a couple of others. I can help you to both,—nay, I will help you to both, if you do not interfere with my plans. “My husband and all his friends are fools, and the life they lead is impossible for me. That dress is thirty years old, if a day. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. " "I've heard of him," replied Jack, impatiently.
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