Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. " There was a brief, breathless pause.
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