“Julian! I was worried that. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. Time enough to do so when she has her affairs settled—if she can settle them. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ‘Home?’ ‘To your family.
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