‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. She answered him almost coldly. Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful. She heard their feet and muffled voices. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold.
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