His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. " "We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old oneeyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire-side. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. ‘Let her go. “I detest amateurs. This was just what he needed. " "There is a great art in it, if you did," quoth he.
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