But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. “So very clear and cold,” she said. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good.
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