The ragged edge. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again.
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