” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. She's my mealticket.
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