. "By the powers!" he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the captive, "he's a nice gennteel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. You are not my husband.
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