Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. With a little more meat on him, he would be handsome. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her.
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