His lips parted in a rare smile. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. And the hunter home from the hill. The man was mad to marry me. And Capes was thinking that his wife was a supremely beautiful woman. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed.
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