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“It was poison—why not?” she answered. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. She would have been amazed if John was even aware of any one of the incidents. . “You remind me of the story which they tell against us over here, you know—of the Englishman who refused to be saved from drowning because he was unacquainted with his rescuer. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. You have the ideas. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. " He did not reply. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing.
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