Capes joined the students at tea, and displayed himself in an impish mood that sometimes possessed him. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. “Mr. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect security. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. She could not stir hand or foot. Miss Moffatt, the history and moral instruction mistress, was particularly explicit upon this score, and they all agreed in indicating contempt and pity for girls whose minds ran on such matters, and who betrayed it in their conversation or dress or bearing.
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