Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. “I’m not the Devil.
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