“Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. He bent over to Anna at once. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. They have no amenities, they scratch the mellow surface of things almost as if they did it on purpose; and Lady Palsworthy and Mrs.
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