Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. ’ ‘In a somewhat roundabout fashion, if you ask me,’ came in a mutter from her old nurse, very much in her usual style. " "Too proud, eh?" rejoined the prize-fighter. “You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another.
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