She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. ” Ann Veronica had remained standing while her aunt spoke. 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. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent.
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