“Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. I put your clothes out an hour ago.
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