As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. Mr. 1. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. \" Larry got up from his chair and trudged to the refrigerator, pouring himself a glass of milk from the never-ending supply of two percent. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner.
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