Capes joined the students at tea, and displayed himself in an impish mood that sometimes possessed him. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. She could not say who, not yet. I'm not particular what or where.
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