Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. "There is a man in this room who seeks my life. Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. She understood.
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