"Only occasional week-ends." Catherine sat down on the footstool on the hearth. The light shone through the loosened brown hair about her face and turned her throat to pale ivory. "He was here a week ago."
"Your sister? Has she been here?"
"No. She decided to spend her vacation in the mountains with that friend of hers. Nobody's been here! I haven't seen anyone since last May, except for flying shots at Charles. If I begin to spout a Mother Goose rhyme at you, you might understand why."
"Well, you haven't the mossy look I connect with mothers," said Henrietta, as she smoked in quick little spurts. "Have a cigarette?" She tossed her silver case into Catherine's lap.
"Sworn off." Catherine ran her finger over the monogram. "Amelia would know I was a fallen woman—haven't lighted one since—oh, since Charles came back from France."
"Didn't he care for those home fires?" Bill took his pipe out of his teeth, drawled his question, and went on with his inspection of the flames.
Catherine laughed.
"Tell me what you two have been doing since I saw you."
Henrietta retrieved her case and extracted a second cigarette.