She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Unless he deserts the girl, he won't be so hard to find as formerly. Her mind had been and was full of the thought of Capes, a huge generalized Capes-lover. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation.
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