“We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived.
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