” “The Bubonic Plague?” He asked. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. “You found the flat easily?” said Capes in the pause. “Stop,” he said. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words.
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