“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. “I can talk to you and you to me without a scrap of effort,” said Capes; “that’s the essence of it. Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. 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. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald.
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