"The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him.
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