” Their eyes met for a moment. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. 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. Drawing the pay of life and then not living. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. Like appendicitis.
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