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... had been silent, saw the topic drifting into his realm of knowledge and mockingly recited in Arthur’s ear, "Come, but don’t choose the morning light blazing like fire, pick a rainy afternoon, your form in death, not too unsightly, yet like mud-stained boots, dull and dim. Once dreamt of knighthood, yet ultimately fell at the stairs, the newspaper words too lazy to exaggerate. ’Brave? Perhaps.’ Others scoff, ’Not even the Devil thinks it deserves applause.’"
Upon hearing this, Arthur gla ...
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