It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry.
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