Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. If she kept on, would she make it out of the door? Then what? He could come after her before she could reach the secret passage. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. There were shadows under his eyes. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart.
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