I might as well be at Morningside Park. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. ’ ‘Had a certificate for it,’ argued Roding. Ten years of military life had taught him caution, but only strengthened a fearless zest for diving into any promising adventure with unalloyed enjoyment. “You have even her name. Only a son’s another story.
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