To the duckling, peas, and other delicacies, intended for Mr. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. . ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him.
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