Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. “You have not feeling enough. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers.
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