” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. " "I could make a fine sketch of him now," whispered Hogarth to Gay. “My dear sweet Lucia. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. "And on my part, I shall not lift a hand to defend myself. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value.
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