Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames.
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