It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. “How are you feeling?” She asked. Gay, I've been in many odd quarters of our city—have visited haunts frequented only by thieves—the Old Mint, the New Mint, the worst part of St. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. I have always understood that men avoid like the plague a woman with a sense of humour.
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