He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. He had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. And there arose too, a background of shouts. He roused curiosities.
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