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He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. \"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched.
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