Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. "When a man reaches the lowest scale through drink, we call him a beachcomber.
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