Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. ‘Did it indeed?’ ‘I should think he’s guessed, don’t you?’ ‘Without any doubt at all. ” The tired woman shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and then looked with them at Ann Veronica. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. She began to feel odd sensations while peering busily at his shoulder and profile.
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