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. Mrs. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. I should like to have had you forgive me. The terror faded from her eyes. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop.
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