The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. "He is all alone. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. This was rather too much to expect; for we all know, if Mr. “My dear Miss Pellissier,” he said impressively, “this is an unexpected pleasure. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. ’ ‘Sport!’ grumbled her betrothed, but he accompanied them across the ballroom all the same.
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