Dick, watching her from the bay window, was surprised by the delicacy of her face, by a look of fragility.

She was dressed very simply in a coat and short skirt of white, her shoes and her gloves were of white suede, her hat was small.
"And this is my son Richard," said Mr.Hazlewood; and Dick came forward out of the bay.

Stella Ballantyne bowed to him but said no word.

She was taking no risks even at the hands of the son of her friend.

If advances of friendliness were to be made they must be made by him, not her.