"Do so."
"You avoid saying how long that is likely to be."
"How can I tell?"
"Oh, you have experience of me. You know how trying you find me in certain moods. To-day I am in a very strange mood indeed; very malicious, very wicked. And it is Sunday."
Miriam did not seem to resent this. She looked away at the window, but smiled. Could Cecily have been aware how her face had changed when the door opened, she would not have doubted whether she was truly welcome.
"What book is that, Miriam?"
Cecily had been half afraid to ask; to her surprise it proved to be Dante.
"Do you read this on Sunday?"
Miriam deigned no reply. The other, sitting just in front of her, took up the volume and rustled its leaves.
"How far have you got? This pencil mark? 'Amor ch'a null' amato amar perdona.'"