“One is always playing the surgeon, one kills always the thing one loves best. But here’s what is different this time. “Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have trampled upon them long ago. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. Kneebone, his impertinence was copied to the letter by Solomon. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. "Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it.
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