Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Stanley as they drew alongside, to account for his own ruffled and heated expression. But you’ve got to lend me forty pounds. He dared not go on.
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