THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
the Styx, my son. I shall be waiting there, I promise you, and we shall drink some corked ambrosia. Surely the gods must give a little to the shades, or at any rate, Brutus shall steal some. And then perhaps you shall tell me what happened after that. I shall look forward—I shall hope, even, that it may be pleasant. Good-bye, my son."
I think he had often planned that leave taking, Surely it must have satisfied him.
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