Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. "I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink. Latterly I’ve been doing things. Here Jack Sheppard was unable to repress an exclamation of astonishment.
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