In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word. He could think about it later. “The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. "It's not very likely that a babby of nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. Wouldn't take my advice.
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