The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. “It was poison—why not?” she answered.
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