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I shall quit this roof to-morrow. . What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. He's settling an account in the house. pgdp. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house. 6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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