“I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper.
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