Yes—as he would have liked. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. ‘Therefore she cannot be the daughter of Suzanne Valade. Come and have lunch with me. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. Now it occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a better way. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands. He arrived at 6:29 sharp on the night of the Junior Prom. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. Capes came back into her mind. "When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. "Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation.
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