’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. He slapped his knee. Surely Capes was different. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name.
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