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. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. ” “Yes, Lucy, but you could make the same statement looking in the mirror. This was what he missed. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again.
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