It had been her father’s surname, and it had sounded far more innocuous and American than Iovelli. She could not help thinking of Capes. Then she took her sister’s hand. “But how can you?” asked Constance. “Look, dear,” she said presently, “you can put the ten on the Jack. Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy.
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