” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. She was pensive and thoughtful. But Jack was too nimble for him. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. She directed the orchestra to tune again.
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