It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance.
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