Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. But this was long ago. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. ’ He nodded. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. She jumped up at once, caught up a leather clutch containing notebooks, a fat textbook, and a chocolate-and-yellow-covered pamphlet, and leaped neatly from the carriage, only to discover that the train was slowing down and that she had to traverse the full length of the platform past it again as the result of her precipitation. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard.
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