[The Crushed Flower and Other Stories by Leonid Andreyev]@TWC D-Link bookThe Crushed Flower and Other Stories CHAPTER II 24/43
Let us drink and laugh, Khorre.
That organist lies. Sing something for me, Khorre--you sing well.
In your hoarse voice I hear the creaking of ropes.
Your refrain is like a sail that is torn by the storm.
Sing, sailor!" Khorre nods his head gloomily. "No, I will not sing." "Then I shall force you to pray as they prayed!" "You will not force me to pray, either.
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