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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Allan and the Holy Flower"

It was very good tea, especially as we had milk
to put in it, although I did not remember what it tasted like till
afterwards.
Now, having abandoned hope, I went into a hut alone to compose myself
to meet my end like a gentleman, and seated there in silence and semi-
darkness my spirit grew much calmer. After all, I reflected, why
should I cling to life? In the country whither I travelled, as the
reader who has followed my adventures will know, were some whom I
clearly longed to see again, notably my father and my mother, and two
noble women who were even more to me. My boy, it is true, remained (he
was alive then), but I knew that he would find friends, and as I was
not so badly off at that time, I had been able to make a proper
provision for him. Perhaps it was better that I should go, seeing that
if I lived on it would only mean more troubles and more partings.
What was about to befall me of course I could not tell, but I knew
then as I know now, that it was not extinction or even that sleep of
which Stephen had spoken.


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