Softly she rose to her feet. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion.
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