He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. “I want to be your friend,” he said. The river, the big buildings on the north bank, Westminster, and St. . " Mr. "I'm come to say good bye to you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place. Death belongs to God, young man.
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