“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. ’ The girl held out her hands. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. She felt that with Capes near to her she would be content always to go on loving. Possessed of you, I shall have a treasure such as kings could not boast. These sham ideals and advanced notions.
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