‘I believe that. He was like a man beside himself. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. You lack only that mechanical knack of expression which is the least important part of an artist’s equipment, but which remains a tedious and absolute necessity. " "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton. Where is he?" "Here," answered Jack.
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