” “A sort of history,” said Mr. Peste, but everything had become difficult. I have only just left Wych Street. She is no longer mine; she is yours. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. "If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. "Stir a foot, at your peril. . ‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. Maybe later. I hate what I am.
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