And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter.
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