“I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. I’m very resourceful, you know. "You'll not forget the thousand, Sir Rowland—short accounts, you know.
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