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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from St. Ives by Robert Louis Stevenson: received his orders last night: he was to say that I had met a
friend, and Mrs. McRankine was not to expect me before morning. A
good enough tale in itself; but the dreadful pickle I was in made
it out of the question. I could not go home till I had found
harbourage, a fire to dry my clothes at, and a bed where I might
lie till they were ready.
Fortune favoured me again. I had scarce got to the top of the
first hill when I spied a light on my left, about a furlong away.
It might be a case of sickness; what else it was likely to be - in
so rustic a neighbourhood, and at such an ungodly time of the
morning - was beyond my fancy. A faint sound of singing became
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