"Anything else?" "Your waistcoat. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. " "Be pacified, sweet soul," said Wood, looking meaningly at Thames; "you shall go, and I will accompany you. One of the reasons why I left Paris and came to London was because there was a man there who wanted me to marry him. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. " "I'll tell you what.
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