He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. Knock on the partition if you want anything during the might. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing.
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