The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. 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. They compromised at length on the science course at the Tredgold Women’s College—she had already matriculated into London University from school—she came of age, and she bickered with her aunt for latch-key privileges on the strength of that and her season ticket. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it.
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