From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy.
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