” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. Good riddance to bad rubbish. It's of no use. ‘Not in the open street.
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