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Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose.
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