"My worst fears are realized. ’ The questions that had long haunted her came out at last. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. 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. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. Some automaton within her produced in a quite unfamiliar voice the remark, “They’re playing football. \" She waved.
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