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Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Capes was inclined to support Miss Klegg until Miss Garvice cornered him by quoting him against himself, and citing a recent paper in the Nineteenth Century, in which, following Atkinson, he had made a vigorous and damaging attack on Lester Ward’s case for the primitive matriarchate and the predominant importance of the female throughout the animal kingdom. “Like a stab. “I saw you go into that place, and I have been waiting for you ever since. But never would any so dishonour himself as to hand a fellow rogue over to the authorities. She entered the last room, his bedroom. In that sense, my strategy worked. I think she might be up to something. Capes smiled cheerfully with his eyes meeting hers.
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