Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. Dim souls flitted about her, not only speaking but it would seem even thinking in undertones. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr.
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