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He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, pervert?” “Yes sir. ‘That’s right. ” “Where?” Courtlaw asked quickly. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. A brisk talk sprang up between Capes and Mr.
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