I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. “Katy Pfister.
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