He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. Presently he felt motion. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. The huge, newly remodeled brick house was crammed full of people reeking of beer, vodka, and tequila. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl.
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