“Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. What's all this about, anyhow? You. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. "Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so. The Goopes were the oddest little couple conceivable, following a fruitarian career upon an upper floor in Theobald’s Road. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone.
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