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"Is there any of that corn whisky ?" "No, sir." "Damn it, you said there was this morning!" "No, sir, I didn't." The man lied placidly; the master looked at him, then laughed.
"Poor old Burgess," he said aloud as though to himself; "there wasn't a skinful in that bottle.

Well, I can't get drunk, I can't lie here and count from six to midnight and keep my sanity, I can't smoke--you rascal, where's my cigar?
And I certainly can't go out anywhere because I haven't any money." "You might take the air on the avenue, sir.