“I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. It looks so French to be affectionate. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. That would be him.
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