” Annabel rose to her feet. "But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy.
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