Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. “My hand! This isn’t the place. So long as a man behaves himself, I can't refuse him liquor.
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