“If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. Much too young for you. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. She was weeping now. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building.
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