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The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. Some have no males.
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