They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. You said that it would bring trouble. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father.
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