I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. I hate this part of the world. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. New customs have prevailed over the old. It seemed to emanate from the back of the house. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. “Dare!” she said.
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