I burned it. ” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. ‘Eh bien. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed.
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