We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. Then he had gone away. Epithalamy might do. He understood. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. Very good. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. . "I was only just in time.
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