“You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. He was a fool. " "My courage gave out. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. Sanguine they were not. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture.
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