He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. Then Capes’ footsteps approached. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. I keep my finger on the pulse of things.
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