Drewena’s face grew whiter as she went gracefully but swiftly to the arch-like entrance to greet the new arrival, whose perfect casting—the unusual make-up against the wheat-colored hair, against the long, pale yellow dress, against the turquoise of her eyes, and the strong, uneven modeling of her features brought the hostess to a stop before she reached her guest.
“Beautiful Miriam,” she whispered.
Miriam contemplated Drewena without expression, though enjoying her beauty far more than she liked to admit. While Drewena was thinking in confusion how and where to get her friend alone—away from the others who would spoil her with their eyes—yes, with their thoughts, as Roberta had said. If she, Drewena, could only touch her once—could only hold her.... So taking her guest by the hand, she quickly pulled her back into the hall.
“Come upstairs for a moment, Miriam,” she whispered hoarsely. “You must have earrings to make you perfect. I have some of jet that will make you lovelier than ever!” They ascended the wide spiral staircase.
Carrie ran after them. On the bottom step she paused. As they disappeared around a bend in the stairs, Carrie clung tightly to the newel post. Then turning, her eyes wide, she stepped down and hurried to Beulah.
Roberta, sitting in her corner, saw all this, and the rapidity with which she changed coloring caused old Docky to chuckle something about adrenalin. But Roberta was really acting strangely. She seemed ready to leave her chair, then at intervals would pull something halfway out of her muff. Docky could not quite see, for Roberta covered the object cleverly. Each movement, however, was hesitant, until finally, with a certain air of fatalism, Roberta settled down in a rigid posture which she maintained for some time.
Upstairs, Drewena opened a door beyond the staircase, and led Miriam out on the terrace. Saturn was in conjunction with the frozen moon. Midway between the zenith and the horizon, the moon, as if by some prearrangement lightened Drewena’s white face until her beauty would have been nebulous had she not been pressed so closely to her friend. Miriam’s face, however, had caught the amber tone of the planet, and her cheeks seemed flushed as though by moonburn. Drewena pulled her inside again and sat beside her on the bed. She turned out the indirect lights and lay down, her head on Miriam’s lap. The moon shone upon them brightly.
“Miriam,” she said, “is that a halo around your head, dearest?”
“It’s the moon in the fuzz of my wig,” answered Miriam seriously.