No further responsibility whatever. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. “You were booked of course. Adieu! my charmer. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black.
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