“No!” he said aloud at last. "The devil you have!" thundered a voice from behind, that filled the apprentice with dismay. Look at the poor victim at your feet. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. “Of course!” he said. “Because I hate you!” She spat. I shall give you my life, every moment and thought of my life. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. "Why do you laugh?" he asked.
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