It is but a wild threat. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. ” She paused. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. "It'll ease your mind. " The Wastrel laughed.
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