“Great dears!” said Capes, as the vehicle passed out of sight. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. By a sort of instinct. The forgiveness and reconciliation was a cold and formal affair, and afterwards her father went off gloomily to his study, and Mr. Somehow. He's the only native I trust in these parts. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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