” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. Those are all nice things, but it’s not what I want. Capes scored back with an uncompromising vigor that was his way of complimenting her intelligence. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. CHAPTER XXII. With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander.
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