‘But a spy I am not. No mercenary consideration influences me. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view.
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