. ’ She shrugged fatalistically. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. 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.
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