He savored the last solo, the coda. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. Hoddy, what made you do it? Whatever made you do it?" "God knows! Something said to me: Take it! Take it! And … I took it. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat.
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