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“Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. ’. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. ‘What a fate he finds for me. ” “You remembered. However, it don't signify. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. Come on.
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