‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. I told them lies. "I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. ’ ‘What is all this about your proof?’ demanded Roding, diverted.
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