Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. But I want to know whether in such an event you would stand by me?” She held out her hand. Mr. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. I hope you won’t mind if I say first that I think it does me an extraordinary honor that you should think of any one like myself so highly and seriously, and, secondly, that I wish it had not been written.
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