” “A little pit!” said Ann Veronica; “a little prison!” “It’s just as often a little refuge. Earles’ waiting-room who would march you straight off to a registrar’s office. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. Idleness is the key of beggary, Jack. ” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them.
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