The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. Wood, in a taunting tone.
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