Eugenia had raised her arms and was taking down her long, heavy brown hair.
It was only about eight o’clock in the evening, but the four friends had planned to undress and have the hours before bedtime for a long talk.
In the next room Barbara was re-reading a letter which she had found waiting for her at the hospital, written by her husband. She and her sister-in-law were discussing this and other family matters.
Nona had already undressed and put on her dressing gown, a lovely blue silk negligée which Sonya had given her, since Sonya now insisted on Nona’s having pretty clothes. She was now half sitting, half lying on the bed with her pale yellow hair rippling over the pillow.
Eugenia turned to put on her own lavender dressing gown and then stood looking down on the other girl.
“Tell me, Nona—of course I understand you don’t have to confess unless you wish—but you know I have often wondered; are you especially interested in anyone? So far, you alone of our group of four Red Cross girls seems to have escaped, and I certainty never dreamed in those early days that both Barbara and I would be married, Mildred engaged and you remain free. Is it because you are too much of a Fra Angelico angel (who was it who used to insist you looked like one?) to feel ordinary emotions?”
Nona laughed, glad that Eugenia could discuss this particular subject in so cheerful and natural a fashion, yet changing color slightly.
“Do you wish me to confess, Gene, that I am so much less attractive? Because, after all, that must be the truth.”
Nona tried to keep her voice perfectly steady and her eyes directly regarding Gene’s. Nevertheless, to her own annoyance she found that Eugenia’s question had brought back the memory of Eugino Zoli and the last night in the old Italian garden. Again she wondered if he had ever really cared for her.
Something in her expression may have betrayed her, for Eugenia changed the subject.