He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. “I meant to say good-bye to you to-night. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. . “What can one say?” she exclaimed. 1. 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. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world.
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