“No,” she answered. “Okay. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. Sheppard uttered a piercing scream. “I was sick of the make-believe.
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