He laughed. ‘Then I am not mad in the least. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. I've taught him all he can do; and there isn't his fellow, and never will be again. Loneliness.
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