There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. He came over to me. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said.
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