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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry: with work, the curse of the world, for its theme.
The December air was frosty, but the sweat broke out upon Whistling
Dick's face. He thrust his head out of the window, and looked down.
Fifteen feet below him, against the wall of the house, he could make
out that a border of flowers grew, and by that token he overhung a bed
of soft earth.
Softly as a burglar goes, he clambered out upon the sill, lowered
himself until he hung by his hands alone, and then dropped safely. No
one seemed to be about upon this side of the house. He dodged low, and
skimmed swiftly across the yard to the low fence. It was an easy
matter to vault this, for a terror urged him such as lifts the gazelle
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