Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once. The horns were the worst, slipping in and out of tune and rushing the easy sections, fighting everyone else. I do not want to hear from you even the threat of disobedience. Gentlemen, I am proud to say that I originated—that I directed those measures.
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