Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. I do not think that I have the Bohemian spirit at all. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. There was another little thing he had to say. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. It has instead found you. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean.
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