Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. She kept her eyes closed. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man.
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