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We will meet again.

His disease had then become very grave and distressing. I sat by him but a short time, and expecting to go on a long journey next day I told him so, and said good-by. He drew me to him, kissed my cheek, then again kissed my lips tenderly as a father. I said: ‘We will meet again soon if the yellow-fever don't carry me off.’ He said, with strong emotion and emphasis: ‘Yes, we will surely meet again.’ I never saw him any more.

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Dabney H. Maury (1)
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