Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon.
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