It was the size of my palm. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. The water was cold but she waded deeper. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp.
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