She threw her arms around him, she loved him and silently forgave him.
"Well, what's new?"
If only he wouldn't always greet her that way!
"Nothing—oh, they want me to give a reading of my poems."
"Fine!"
"Fine? I don't know what you mean. I hate the idea. Anything like that leaves me utterly spent."
"Oh, you'll enjoy it."
She felt ready to burst. We are utter strangers, she thought, as they dressed for dinner, getting into each other's way. He thinks I like getting up and having everybody look at me, when it kills me—when I can only bear it because I have something real, something true, something of myself to give them. It was a good thing she hadn't worn the golden gown before. A little golden queen. She heard herself speaking exquisite words, she saw Louis Brown's dark face in the audience. White
