At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. It was a letter. ’ She tossed her head. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. It should be the happiest day of your life, and I would not detract from its happiness by letting you remember for a moment that there are others to whom your inevitable decision must bring some pain. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms.
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