The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. Lincoln lost to Glenbrook South miserably, the score eight to two.
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