“You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. It has been a big night. Scarcely any one entered Mr. I will go to-night.
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