She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. ” “Yes,” she said, and abruptly she liked him enormously. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. 59 He was not present during the night the next morning, or the next, or the next.
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