| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - But he does not speak to him, nor does he look at him as Quentin scrambles to his feet, weaving and touching his throat.There is a storm that night, lightning and thunder and the soaking rain and when he wakes the following morning the blanket next to him is empty.oooOOOoooQuentin hangs out his shingle in a small settlement of Norwegian immigrants.
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