’” “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. “I do want you. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. Supper was over. He was six blocks away from his home, a ten story building apparently made solely of glass. Your mind is still subtly sick. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial.
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