Then there was also the horse. I—well, I lost my temper. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. “But you must forgive me, John. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road.
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