"Aw Come. Wished to see you. When you don’t have any fingers left, I take a toe. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly.
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