But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. It was you who were so much amazed that I did not try—the music hall stage here. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person.
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