Would the trees make up for St.John Hirst?
She would be a Persian princess far from civilisation, riding her horse upon the mountains alone, and making her women sing to her in the evening, far from all this, from the strife and men and women--a form came out of the shadow; a little red light burnt high up in its blackness.
"Miss Vinrace, is it ?" said Hewet, peering at her.

"You were dancing with Hirst ?" "He's made me furious!" she cried vehemently.

"No one's any right to be insolent!" "Insolent ?" Hewet repeated, taking his cigar from his mouth in surprise.
"Hirst--insolent ?" "It's insolent to--" said Rachel, and stopped.

She did not know exactly why she had been made so angry.

With a great effort she pulled herself together.
"Oh, well," she added, the vision of Helen and her mockery before her, "I dare say I'm a fool." She made as though she were going back into the ballroom, but Hewet stopped her.
"Please explain to me," he said.