"Mr. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. "Come along! We'll start that concert right away. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. I guess they were bad all the time. ” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible.
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