But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. To compare me to a starving pig. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. On their left the river, with its gloomy pile of buildings on the opposite side, and a huge revolving advertisement throwing its strange reflection upon the black water.
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