He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. 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. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court.
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