Was there something of the deamer, or a certain dignity, about Abel? Not a scrap. A tiny squirrel, as quick as lightning, a daredevil with every limb in a state of commotion. He would be seen simultaneously up by the church and down on the shore; he never walked if there was the faintest possibility of running. It was hurry hurry, his great boots thundering along the street.
-Knut Hamsun
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