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. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left.
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