Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. "Here, Caliban," shouted the under-turnkey, "unlock Captain Sheppard's padlock, and tell him his wives are in the Lodge waiting to see him. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature.
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