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Breathe, O! breathe to me, as these love-languid skies To yon twilight star breathe, Return, return!

"Good-bye." I could barely hear it.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

"Oh, shut your dirty face!" replied the son, while one of his cronies warned both against being overheard. But when this one added something further the old man snarled:

The thunder of our own hoofs Was all the sound we heard.

"His name is Oliver."

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