He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. ” She wondered what to.
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