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Her father’s step quickened to a trot. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. “Dear me!” he said. " She rose. ‘And I am delighted to see that you are ready to admit that the Charvills—or rather the Valades—are indeed your affair. ‘Certainly no one will find it. I’m too young 117 for this to sound right. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion.
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