Gerald’s voice came back to her, saying that she could not hope to outwit “a man who means business”. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. A big breakfast is healthier anyway, so they say. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. 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. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. “Too much sensibility and too cold a heart. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year.
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