"It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. White caught her eye, and smiled benignly down the table. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay.
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