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Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly. “Mean as an old mule, too. "I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. But if you do not leave this room I must.
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