The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance.
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