" "Mr. 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. ‘This is not a place for a man. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. My appearance is genuinely altered for the better. It was really very nice of you, but to-morrow you will laugh at it as I do now. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical.
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