‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. “Very well,” he said. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Manning displayed distress. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. 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 tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather. "Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock.
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