. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. "'T is he!" he mentally ejaculated. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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