For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. The day is already half over. "Austin will stare," thought Jack, "when he comes here in the morning.
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