She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. “Mom, this is the girl I asked to Prom, Lucy. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. One must get them with exactly the same intensity. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. She gloried in it: he needed her. It is the vapouring school girl. “But this is a surprise!” said Ramage. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. Nothing is settled upon. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard.
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