She tipped his mouth towards her own and kissed him. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. It’s for you to say if I may sit on it. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat.
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