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“Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. ’ ‘He doesn’t sound like a desirable parti. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy.
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