The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. . Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat.
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