"No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. ” “It isn’t that you’re splendid or I,” said Capes.
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