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Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. Wood in their favour. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. "Get a chair, Austin. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron.
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