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The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. She had called the police on them anonymously. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. She’s already spoken for. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. gutenberg.
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