For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. “Nigel, don’t you understand. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. And here are these places, full of contagion! “Of course, this is the real texture of life, this is what we refined secure people forget.
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