She felt the warm nearness of his. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. I wonder if he really wants me to go home.
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