Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. “I love your sister. That, I think, is manifest. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. ’ It had not before occurred to him, but this realisation fuelled the general’s growing conviction that he was being imposed upon in some way.
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