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From Count Andreas Petofi: Exceeding the Grasp, an autobiographical gift of letters, lore, and lyrics.  Volume VII

It was on that glorious night that I tightly held my long-lost and beloved hand in my arms!

Was it worth nearly breaking the arm of a nine-year-old girl?  Gentle reader, I have heard those arguments.  I suppose I would know nothing of such discomfort… except for having had my hand rended from my body with the rustiest of hand-saws.

That is a brand of discomfort that I would suggest for no one… including a nine-year-old girl, deadly though they are.

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