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Farrar, Frederic William, 1831-1903

"Eric"

"
"Yessir--d'reckly," said the man, with a hateful twinkle of the eyes.
"So you're out for a spree," he continued, winking in a knowing way.
"Won't you walk into the back-parlor while I get them?" And he showed
them into a dingy horrid room behind the house, stale with smoke, and
begrimed with dust.
Eric was silent and disgusted, but Wildney seemed quite at home. The
man soon returned with the beer. "Wouldn't you like a glass of summat
now, young gen'lmen?" he asked, in an insinuating way.
"No, Billy! don't jabber--we must be off. Here open the door."
"Stop, I'll pay," said Eric. "What's the damage?"
"Three shilling, sir," said the man. "Glad to see a new customer, sir."
He pocketed the money, and showed them, out, standing to look after them
with a malicious leer as they disappeared, and jerking his left thumb
over his shoulder.
"Faugh!" said Eric, taking a long breath as they got out again into the
moonlight, "what a poisonous place! Good gracious, Charlie, who
introduced you there?"
"Oh, I don't think much of going _there_" said Wildney, carelessly; "we
go every-week almost.


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