A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. He hesitated. It has been a big night. Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. Profligate women are never reclaimed. Wood scarcely knew where he was. Still no sound. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances.
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