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. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. And to wish not is useless, because you have told me from when I was a little girl. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones.
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