” “Of course,” said Capes, and threw a newly lit cigar into the fire through sheer nervousness. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly.
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