“Mayn’t I ask? Do you mind?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Which is the ‘no’ for?”
“Both,” said Elizabeth.
“I mustn’t ask then. You’d rather not talk about it? Really?”
“Yes, really, Neta, dear.”
“Right you are.”
Agneta was silent for a few minutes. They were sitting together in the firelight, and she watched the play of light and shade upon Elizabeth’s face. It was beautiful, but troubled.
“Lizabeth, you used not to be beautiful, but you are beautiful now,” she said suddenly.
“Am I?”