” Mike said, with unsubtle jealousy. Mike chortled. He greeted the corpulent boy at the register, whose tag read, \"MY NAME IS Jason\" with familiarity. They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. Beauty has bloomed and faded.
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