" "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. Gerald lost his head. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. . And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. It was finished by the end of that year, each character having asserted itself pronouncedly in my imagination. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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