"Come in, come in, child."
As he hesitatingly entered she warbled: "Needn't both be so
lonely all the time, after all, need we? Even if you _don't_
like poor Istra. You don't--do you?" Seemingly she didn't
expect an answer to her question, for she was busy lighting a
Russian cigarette. It was the first time in his life that he
had seen a woman smoke.
With embarrassed politeness he glanced away from her as she
threw back her head and inhaled deeply. He blushingly
scrutinized the room.
In the farther corner two trunks stood open. One had the tray
removed, and out of the lower part hung a confusion of lacey
things from which he turned away uncomfortable eyes. He
recognized the black-and-gold burnoose, which was tumbled on the
bed, with a nightgown of lace insertions and soft wrinkles in
the lawn, a green book with a paper label bearing the title
_Three Plays for Puritans_, a red slipper, and an open box of
chocolates.
On the plain kitchen-ware table was spread a cloth of Reseda
green, like a dull old leaf in color.
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