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. Even were she to get an opportunity to scream, it would be some time before such a call, unprecedented though it might be, brought the nuns so much out of their absorption that they interrupted their prayer to investigate. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. Suddenly he stopped short.
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