“It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. I don’t want to bother you, of course. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible.
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