It fits your style. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. ” He said. What brings you here?” “I’m here to see my uncle. "And, may I be cursed if I ever did anything in my whole life which gave me so much satisfaction. "As like as life. You can’t possibly understand!” He began a confused explanation, a perplexing contradictory apology for his urgency and wrath.
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