" The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly pressure. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. ” “It might become one,” he answered. Before her was a great Gothic portal. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting.
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