He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently.
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