‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. Soho! boys. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. " "Ay, ay," observed Jonathan, "you'll give the keepers of his Majesty's jails some trouble before you're many years older, I'll warrant you.
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