Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. “Yes. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. Ah! there he stands!" he exclaimed as his eye fell for the first time upon Sir Rowland. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket.
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