It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known.
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