He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. He could scarcely blame her. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited.
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