It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card. A mosquito had been trapped inside and was perfectly preserved for thousands of years. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. He rested on one elbow. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. Maggot.
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