Gwen stopped suddenly in the middle of a song.
“I could not have believed our two voices could ever mix and make completeness.”
“It is a ‘sport’.”
“I like explicable things best,” she said, peering out into the semi-gloom.
“You go about with a scalpel in your brain, Gwen! What a thing it is to come of scientific stock!”
“Oh, it’s a diabolical thing for a woman!” said Gwen.
She shut the piano up softly—she never by any chance banged things—and went upstairs to dress.
“I shall wear that silk that looks like flesh,” she said.
“I put it away your ladyship, you said you did not like it.”
“If you could get at it quite easily, I should like to wear it to-night.”