As she put her soft black hair up over her high forehead, her father noticed her birthmark, a faint curving line of red running up from between her eyes.

Imperceptible as a rule, it showed when she was tired.

In the big school in the tenements where she had taught for many years, she gave herself hard without stint to her work, but she had such a good time through it all.

She had a way, too, he reflected, of always putting things in their place.

As now she came in and kissed him and sank back on his leather lounge with a tranquil breath of relief, she seemed to be dropping school out of her life.
Roger picked up his paper and continued his reading.