“Will you help me?” he asked. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. Go, and let him in. She reloaded.
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