It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. . The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. CHAPTER I. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. ‘Mary was indeed naïve, but there I should say the similarity ends. Hang the wench! Roding was right. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair.
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