What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. I spent my fair share of time in the closet.
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