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The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. Where's Marvel?" "Here, Sir," replied the executioner. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. 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. I'll try to think better of him in future.
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