But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. Capes sat watching and admiring her, and then he fell praising the day and fortune and their love for each other. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. Yes, there was someone there. He was also aware that all his arguments would shatter themselves against her resolutions. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. Wild's figure. But of what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her.
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