There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. On the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and muttered remonstrances of Mr. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. The money will last longer, and—it won’t bother you. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. The man is a stranger to me.
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