She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. Stanley, and went into his study. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. “You can keep him at arm’s length.
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