132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. But it was extraordinary what seemingly irrelevant things could restore her to the thought of Capes again. I went at last when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. “Nor am I now,” he answered.
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