" "I see. " "Ah! Sometimes I wonder I don't run amok and kill someone," said the Wastrel, in broken English. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. My only love is for my poor lost son. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look.
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