1. 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. He had not to wait long. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. She even touched lightly on her father’s unreasonableness. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. But he was not a father one could make much of.
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