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. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. "Ho, no," replied Jack. And this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the rogues were really ill. I never see them, they never even call.
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