"Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you. The chance had gone. She put her head out of the window. A pig, yes, a little. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. I wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India.
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