” “Young? I am twenty-four. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it.
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