" "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH THOUGHTS IN PRISON Part 1 The first night in prison she found it impossible to sleep. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. Howsomdever, if you should reach t'other side, take an old feller's advice, and don't be foolhardy enough to venter back again. .
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