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. There were moments when Ann Veronica rather more than suspected the chief speakers to be, as school-boys say, showing off at her. ‘Here we go again. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging.
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