She felt that with Capes near to her she would be content always to go on loving. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. Almost had Martha won out. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark.
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