In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. You shall know the truth. You are just necessary to life for me. " "He'll be hanged nevertheless," replied the Hollander, giving his collar an ugly jerk. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey.
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