He walked hastily to the side of the broad pavement and summoned a fiacre. " "A young fellow who thinks he's in love, when he has only been reading too much. The opiate has done its duty. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. There must be persons tender and loving in this world. CHAPTER XI.
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