“This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. ” “It would suit me. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable.
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