Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. Perhaps it was loneliness. “Was I that bad?” He asked. Make no promises on a night where I have burdened you with such awful knowledge. “Who did you live with before the Becks? I hear things.
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