" "I say, Kneebone," rejoined Blueskin, as he washed down an immense mouthful with another bumper, "do you recollect how nearly Mr. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. Look at it, I say. He was a little embarrassed. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened.
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