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You mustn't go dressing up Tom, Dick, and Harry in Henry Esmond's ruffles. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. This time he couldn't get far. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie apart. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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