I can’t even make myself care. Then came the great day. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. ’ ‘What?’ gasped Gerald, shocked. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence.
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