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She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. God must love me, for he has guided me here. . One has to train one’s self not to. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. The relationship seemed to have almost as much to do with blood and body as a mortgage. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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