Capes flashed to an understanding of her intention, sprang to his feet, and opened the door for her retreat. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face.
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