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. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. Ed. Martha said to me that it must come to the bibliothéque.
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