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“It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. “In fact, yes, I do. Pramlay lived for amenities and the mellowed surfaces of things. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. " "Let me see. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Mr. You are right. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation.
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