shafts of the trees on the lawn. Supper was in progress
at Peterman's hotel; as Gordon and Meta Beggs
left the buggy they heard the rattle of dishes within.
She walked a few steps, then stopped, was about
to speak, but she saw that Gordon had followed her,
and turned and led the way to the steps giving to the
gallery above.

Gordon Makimmon followed her without reason,
without plan, almost subconsciously. He walked
close behind her to where she opened the door to
her room: it was grey within, a dim curtain swelled
faintly with an unfelt air.

"Black," he repeated stupidly, "size eight and a
half."

She stepped into the room, and faced him; her
lips were parted over a glimmer of teeth. He took
her roughly in his arms, and she turned up her face.

"For the stockings," she said, as he kissed her.

He kissed her again, and she murmured, faintly,
"Two pairs."

It enraged him that she was so collected; her body,
pressed against him from knee to shoulder, was without
a tremor, her breast was tranquil. She might
have been, from her unstudied, total detachment, a
fine, flexible statue in his straining embrace, under
his eager lips. Suddenly, with no apparent effort,
she released herself.

She removed the hat with the blue feather, calmly

[[201]]

p200 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p201w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p202

v?