As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. He had certain orders from which on no account was he to deviate. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. Spurling," rejoined Ireton; "we can taste the rum when he returns. . “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle.
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