Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. I hold a warrant from Mr. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile.
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