‘Oh, you are making a game with me. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles. Capes had the gift of easy, unaffected writing, coupled with very clear and logical thinking, and to follow his written thought gave her the sensation of cutting things with a perfectly new, perfectly sharp knife. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change.
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