Beyond all doubt, she loved; beyond all question, she was prepared to obey the faintest call that her heart prompted.

Janet, tender to her that night, fondling her and caressing her, answering to her with the very heart that she had tried to stifle within herself, was Janet herself again the next morning.

But Sally was unchanged.
She dressed herself silently before the mirror, looking out through the window at the grey river-fog that fell gloomily across the water and Janet lay in bed, her hands crossed behind her head, a cigarette hanging between her lips and the smoke curling up past her eyes.

The school of Art did not open until eleven o'clock that morning.

Sally had to be at the office at nine.
"There'll be a fog up in Town," said Janet.