Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. "Here is my purse; and I trust you will let me know to whom I am indebted for this important service. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. Perhaps marriage hurt. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop. Only I do not care to write about anything else.
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