I've been with him for five years, and I understand him." "Thank you very much," said Dene.

"I'll take your tip.

I'm not fond of arguing myself." When he had disposed of his supper, he made his way to Mr.Bloxford's cabin and knocked at the door.

He was bidden to enter in a sharp, falsetto voice, like that of a phonograph when it is on the high note.
The manager was still enveloped in his fur coat, but his hat had been thrown aside, revealing a head apparently completely hairless.

A lighted cigar was now between his teeth, and a bottle of champagne stood on the table.