’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. “There have been other times,” he said a little sadly. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open.
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