Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. ” The truth prevailed. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face.
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