“Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. The Bed Room 400 XIX. I’m a hard young woman. ‘He’s already spoken for, Melusine. Miss Charvill. “Home, of course,” she answered. I would like you to believe that the decision I have arrived at—to stay away—is wholly and entirely to save you pain. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn.
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