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Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble. It's infernally provoking. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. It might be supposed that these articles, when thrust together into the bag, would have jingled; but these skilful practitioners managed matters so well that no noise was made. ” She smiled. 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. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless.
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