The coolies proceeded at a swinging, mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action similar to that of a suddenly agitated hangingspring of a birdcage. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. By instinct. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. “I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this matter lightly. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way.
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