She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him.
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