Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. I want to fill it with fine and precious things. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle.
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