But she felt his lax figure become rigid. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. ” “And in Paris——” “In Paris,” he interrupted, “she was a very delightful companion, but beyond that —one did not take her seriously. In the struggle, Mrs. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Jack had well-nigh fallen too. She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him. She spoke slowly.
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