Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him. " "It matters not. " "You are from America?" "Yes. Another glass, Jack. Annabel, I was lying. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine.
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