. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. "Now—begin. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate. I'll see. Wait a second. But men are so careless, there's no trusting anything to them! However, I must try to brazen it out. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional.
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