“Well,” said Capes, at length, “we’ve to go down, Ann Veronica. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. He had taken it back. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. To take Spring and Love out of her life, as if there were no human instincts to tell Ruth what was being denied her! And what must have been the man's thought as he came upon Ruth wearing a gown of her mother's? —a fair picture of the mother in the primrose days? Not a flicker of an eyelash; steel and granite outwardly. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food.
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