216 “Please, get dressed. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. Oh, you cannot escape from it. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. He decided that Hoddy should pay a colossal price for the Dawn Pearl—shame, loneliness, torment, for only through these agencies would he learn your worth. .
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