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She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. " "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. We’ll have some buttered toast. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. "I am only fit for such as him.

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