” She thought more and more along that line. “Nothing can cheer me,” he said, “except champagne. "Mutual concessions," she added. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ’ ‘Sir!’ called Trodger, as the captain began to lead the young lady off. I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. She wanted to think. The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was at fault.
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