Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away.
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