I want to leave Paris to-day—this very day. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. “Oh, yes, that’s right, we go to school. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. He was perhaps forty-five years of age.
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