Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. ” She replied vaguely. Then her eyes flashed. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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