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O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it! To me she was not an old rattle-trap carting about the world a lot of coal for a freight–to me she was the endeavour, the test, the trial of life. I think of her with pleasure, with affection, with regret–as you would think of someone dead you have loved. I shall never forget her. . . . Pass the bottle.
