‘I broke in. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. "I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink. “I cannot part with you. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. "Ah! I see. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. The one I have is a duplicate. ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands.
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