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. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. So he resolved to try another tack. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips.
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