His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. 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. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. You will wonder why he did not hold the pearls until Father returned.
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