Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner.
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