“I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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