Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. ‘What a fate he finds for me. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. " Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall.
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