He was suddenly calm. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. . . "You won't betray him. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. ‘I don’t want him having an apoplexy in this house. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.
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