He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. At once divining the meaning of this ingenious device, he applied his mouth to the tube, and sucked away, while the person outside poured spirit into the bowl.
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