She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. John stared palely.
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