Plainly. But he reckoned without his host. " "That is your fault, none of mine. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. He laughed. It was a mass of knick-knacks. No further responsibility whatever. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. I’ve made no one happy. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. He passed his arm under that of the constable, and drew him aside.
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