Now the doctor had the "feel" that somewhere ahead lay danger. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. Her face expressed nothing. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. I came to the Beck’s house.
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