Now lend me your own hand. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. Parbleu, but she was a fool.
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