I was his wife. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. "Oh no—no! You say this to terrify me—to try me. It is positively hateful to think of it. "You read it, Ruth. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire.
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