“Very well,” he said, “I will go. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. Since she was only seventeen when she had them, she didn’t deal with it very well.
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