She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. 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. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare.
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