" So, after a time, encountering the blot, she herself would supply the word Faith. Because every mistake you make, for every new mishap, Joe, I take a finger. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. 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. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. The Rev. “Of course you don’t. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted.
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