She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. It was among artistic people. “Lucy? Ms. ’ She moved to Melusine’s side as she spoke. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood.
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