‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Capes, do you think. Apologizing for their detention, he answered the questions put to him respecting the boys, by positively denying that any such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but offered to conduct him to every cell in the building to prove the truth of his assertion. ” “When?” “At tea. ’ Gerald frowned.
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