You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. We, ourselves, are scarcely the same we were twelve years ago. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb.
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