The Jew got in first. “We were bound to do this when you kissed me,” she sobbed through her tears. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. I see. And then she fell into a musing about Capes.
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