These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. I’ve never met any one like you. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out.
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