“Some afternoon. “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously. “I am sure that you are. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. That's the only fault I know of.
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