You don’t understand, Lucy, they just aren’t like that. I love some one else. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. Tum, tum, tirray, tum, tum, tum, te-tum—that thing of Mendelssohn’s! If making one human being absolutely happy is any satisfaction to you—” He held out his hands, and she also stood up. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman.
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