"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. " On a shelf was placed a row of paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and window sill. Capes was rather a discovery. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. “Take off your tunic. Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used.
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