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You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. " "You hear that," whispered Jack. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence.
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