“They died within a few months of one another. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. " "Ja—ja," returned the Hollander. Lucy was summarily introduced to Martin’s parents. I miss her a lot.
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