"And yours are—of a certain kind."
"They're of that kind. I haven't been able to free myself from them. But don't you think we'd better go in? We can hardly talk about such things out here."
She bowed to another passing friend. He, too, lifted his hat. When the friend had gone by she glanced hastily toward the house.
"No, I can't go in," she said, hurriedly. "I'd rather talk out here."
"Very well, then. We can take a stroll in the Park?"
"What? We three?"
"Oh, she's gone—if that's the only reason."
Turning, Edith saw the woman with the rose-colored parasol rapidly descending the path by which she had come.
