It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. And Capes was thinking that his wife was a supremely beautiful woman. He had forgiven everybody. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you.
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