" This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. That is not reasonable. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Surely Capes was different. Thames did not try to cheer her.
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