“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. Take it, if I die. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. ” She commented. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes.
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