He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. Capes would come to these teas; he evidently liked to come, and he would appear in the doorway of the preparation-room, a pleasing note of shyness in his manner, hovering for an invitation. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. “I love your sister. So I've grown hard—outside. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough.
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