By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. He was nearly wincing. It was a mad half-hour. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor.
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