“Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. I am a man—of a sort of experience. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. “I was really interested in his stuff. “Certainly. He said the place had gone to wrack. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. The latter gentleman did full justice to the good things before him; but he drank sparingly, and was visibly annoyed by his companion's intemperance. There used to be an after deckhouse and a shallow well for the wheel; but I changed that.
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