On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. “But I’ve heard that he’s broken up with her three times in the past. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. Well, I'll take myself off.
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