He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively.
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