She brought her face to his chest, turning her head sideways so he would not notice her elongated canines. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. If there’s any one here whom you have not met I will make you acquainted with them after dinner. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. I wanted it badly. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. And the less “anything” happened the better.
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