"I knew he would," she said, and she leant forward, as she had at the restaurant, her hands pillowing her chin, her eyes fixed on his.
Roland laughed nervously. "But I don't see why," he began.
She shook her head. "That's the mistake all you men make. You think a woman sees nothing unless she's not watching you the whole time. But she does."
It flattered him to be included under the general heading of "you men." And at that moment Muriel came into the room. She was wearing a low evening dress, wonderfully charming in her new-found womanhood. Roland's eyes followed her in admiration.
"Isn't she pretty?" he said. "That pale blue dress; it's just right. It goes well with her complexion. Pale colours always do."
Beatrice did not answer for a moment; then she gave a little sigh. "Yes, very pretty. I envy her."
Roland turned quickly to her a look of surprised interrogation.
"But you! Why, you look younger than any of us."
She shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps; but what's the use of it to me? Ah, don't say anything, please. You mustn't waste your time on me. Go on and talk to Muriel."