“Hey, John. “Good God!” he exclaimed. You see, my riddle is solved. It doesn’t matter. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. ‘She’s still bleeding. “She must go her own way. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. Even though you cursed your own existence, I had not been so joyous in a thousand years! Finally, he took the family and remaining servants away to the Manor. ” “You meant to say ‘morbid’.
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