"Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. I don't care how lonesome it is. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. " To-morrow! She never beheld it.
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