He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. Capes sat down in the armchair beside her. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. Send you the shirt. “I may seem unduly— anxious.
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