He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Ann Veronica decided she would have to go on with Capes another day, and, looking up, discovered him sitting on a stool with his hands in his pockets and his head a little on one side, regarding her with a thoughtful expression. ” “Right,” he answered. It was finished by the end of that year, each character having asserted itself pronouncedly in my imagination. Set the boy free.
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