’ The door opened and Saling entered again. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. You understand what I mean. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. There is strength in you— misguided. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. I don’t have to take this shit. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you.
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