“You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once. ” “I MUST talk with you. "You must make a bold push. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. ” “But I can’t do that. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. “Soul to soul. ” “Yes.
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