’ So saying, he pulled her forward, slipping her arms about his back. “My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. Seeing from the threatening looks of his captors, that they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him, the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms, and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes.
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