“I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. " Animated by his insatiate desire of vengeance, he seemed to gain strength daily, —so much so, that within a fortnight after receiving his wound he was able to stir abroad. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room.
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