He ended up looking at himself in the mirror. His image stared back at him. He was developing a dewlap - a definite dewlap. He waggled under his chin scornfully with his fingers.
George Whitehead, who knew him, gives the following account of Robert Hayes: 'He was a very innocent loving man, a goodlike person, of a fresh comely countenance, seemed healthy, and in the prime of his strength when first imprisoned. […]
I speak for the Prime Minister.
And ever as he read the tale Of love—rare smile and bended knee— The wind came by and flipt the page, And whispered something of the sea.
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