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. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. A wedding procession turned the corner.
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