‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. “Perhaps, as I’ve only just arrived,” she remarked, “I might be forgiven if I do not change my skirt. If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it.
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