She arranged herself to the best advantage as she arranged a flower in a vase.

On the heavily carved mahogany table beside her was a blue and white India bowl filled with white roses and heliotrope and lemon verbena.

Annie inhaled the bouquet of perfume happily as she came up the steps with Alice smiling a welcome at her.

Annie had worshipped more fervently at Margaret Edes' shrine than at Alice's and yet she had a feeling of fuller confidence in Alice.

She was about to tell Alice about her book, not because Alice needed the comfort of her joy but because she herself, although unknowingly, needed Alice's ready sympathy of which she had no doubt.