The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. Presently he felt motion. “Want to see the upstairs?” “Sure. “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked.
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