And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. "Indeed!" replied the knight, drawing his sword, "the secret, villain, or I will force it from you. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance.
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