’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across.
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