’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a brisk pace till his strength completely failed him. He talked about his driver's license, how he would soon inherit his older brother's BMW. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space.
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