Stanley?” “I’ve fallen out with my father. It fits your style. I can get that at the bar," the manager said, curtly. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof.
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