"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. ” “Where?” He asked. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. .
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