” Lucy retorted, “Well, I’m not going to make the yearbook anytime soon dressed like this, am I. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. We close the chapter. "There's a guinea to drink our health," she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand. Wood, in a taunting tone.
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