“I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. ” “She’ll meet somebody one of these days—walking about like that. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. Once again, he passed his hand over the surface and carefully noted all the obstacles.
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