"Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. I don’t care! I’m glad I did.
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