“I think I ought to have one. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. . The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash.
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