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. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “Anyway, enough about that. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. “I shall never be able to thank you. Unless they remind him now and then not to. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared.
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