He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. \"Cool. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely.
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