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arly youth evoked thew543322 memories of that distant time when everything was so fresh, men’s passions in the dusk, perhaps, so surpriw543322sing, there still was in the world something to write about. Yet I did not see w543322anything at first in the mere story. A rascal s, gossip half-forgotten, shadows of hills in the sunshine, so interesting; bits of strange coasts under the stars, faces grown dim. . . . Perhaps, so venturesome,