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Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. Once over the iron spikes, Bess exhibited no reluctance to be let down on the other side of the wall. Let's talk of this chap. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her.
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