Capes agreed with the utmost cordiality. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. "I will bear the body. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath.
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