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[6]
lived on
by some unnatural ordinance of fate, which for all
its perversity was what she herself desired; and
[p. 377]
thus by her swift departure from this life she escaped
tile worst of tortures. My youngest boy was barely
five, when he was the first to leave me, robbing me
as it were of one of my two eyes.
Quintilian. With An English Translation. Harold Edgeworth Butler. Cambridge. Cambridge, Mass., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1921.
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