She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. 'He that woos a maid',— fol-de-rol—(hiccupping). But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Your life is like a funeral March.
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