"I'm sorry," she said. The door closed softly upon her. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. "Well, I'm not far from the mark. In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers before the sufferer could be rescued. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. All my personal effects to be left in charge of the nearest American Consulate. 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. CHAPTER I.
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