The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. The truth at once flashed across his mind.
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