He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. 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. She had been working upon a ribbon of microtome sections of the developing salamander, and he came to see what she had made of them.
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