Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. “Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. I don’t want to stop your singing.
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