Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. The Lord have mercy upon you!" This ceremony concluded, the calvacade was again put in motion.
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