“If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. “He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly.
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