Then Capes’ footsteps approached. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “Holcroft,” he remarked, “in bald language, and with the usual limitations of his clouded intellect, has still given some slight expression to the consternation which I believe I may say is general amongst us. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night. Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon.
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