He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. 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. All right, I’m coming. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s.
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