No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. There it is. . “I hope that it has not done any harm. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. " "On the contrary, if that is a specimen, they must be poets.
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