His name was Randolph and he was ninety four years old, according to the neighbor who found him early one morning. He was apparently out for his morning walk to buy a newspaper when he collapsed on his front porch.When I first laid eyes on Randolph, he was lying helplessly, but conscious, on a gurney in the emergency area of our small local hospital.He was dressed in a grey tweed suit, white shirt and a bow tie.His eyes were bright blue and staring straight at me.
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