Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. “Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly.
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