"What is it?" "The night," she answered. ” “I am staying,” she answered coolly, “at a small boarding-house near Russell Square. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. ” “Shirts?” “Shirts at one—and—something a dozen. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time.
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