“It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. 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. ” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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