As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. He was caressing an idea. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. She laughed altogether in her old manner.
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