Finding remonstrances of no avail, he had recourse to threats; and when threats failed, he adopted more decided measures. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. "By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. She knew she was a monster and so did they.
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