She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. Just what it means. ’ His colour deepened. The party, then, sat down to a bowl of punch; and, at its conclusion, Captain Kneebone regretted that an engagement to spend the evening with Mrs. You must know that.
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