When he recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into this neutrality. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-07-2024 16:24:57
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