” “Well, I take it we’re straight again,” said Capes with a note of relief, and assumed an easier position on the edge of her table. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. I don’t know what has come over me. Your son was seen by the carpenter's wife in company with the robbers.
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