The man lingered. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. He moaned. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. 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. Only of course I must begin something else at once.
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