” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague. "I am happy—quite happy now. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it.
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