To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. She felt flattered. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell.
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