“I was lonely. "If we take him, I don't mind giving you a share—say a fourth—provided you lend a helping hand. Buck up. It isn’t such fun as it seems. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver.
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