‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. 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. From the first, Ann Veronica found him an exceptionally interesting man. Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused.
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