‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. To be frank with you, I have an affront to requite, which can be settled at the same time, and in the same way with your affair. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest.
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