His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. “Hello, Vee!” he said. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St. \"Yes, I'd love to go.
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