“Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Would a hundred dollars interest you?" "Very much, if I can earn it without offending my conscience. Nothing.
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