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114 the river's bank to dream and see rising before him a future of incredible glory—

Little did he reckon the fires of avarice that would be lighted by what he had written, the thwarted impulses which would be touched to life again! Little did he dream of the misery that would follow in its wake, of the heartsickness, the desperation, the regret. He could not see himself friendless, caught in a net of chicanery and ruthless plotting, with the joy of this night wiped out by the unhappiness that was to come!