Then she turned off the lights and left the room. And the great bunch of roses that had flamed up so bravely, lost their color in the dark.
Perhaps they went to sleep.
All night the fragrance of the roses stole out into the room and filled it—as if little flitting dreams of roses came and went there in the dark.
[XXXVII]
Things were moving happily in Suite A. Herman Medfield had been awake and stirring since daybreak. He had written one or two notes in his own hand, and had dictated a longer one to Miss Canfield. It was addressed to Thomas Dalton, and it lay on the stand beside his chair in the window.
The girl had grasped its import swiftly, as she took down the crisp words.
"It is just what Julian needs," she said compactly as she folded and sealed and stamped it.