Daring a hundred hills,
Whispers the word that thrills.
And the dust of my heart, laid bare,
Shows the lilies that linger there,”
he sang.
And then the good-bys were said. And Miss Julia and Ivy Gilbert were left alone.
Sên King-lo lingered over Miss Townsend’s hand. Ivy feared he was going to offer to touch hers. But he did not, he merely bowed, and without speaking.
The girl was grateful for that.
She stood a moment at her window, looking at the roses in the moonlight, before she drew her curtain and began to undress. And, as she stood looking out across the garden, she drew the scarlet peppers from her bodice and threw them, testily, out into the night.