"You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. ” Mike knocked on the thin core door that sealed her and Shari’s bedroom from the outside world. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once.
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