“Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. htm or 16215-h. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically.
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