He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. 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. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary.
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