" "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. "One of us has got to die," he panted. .
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