Jerry Junior's letter of regret arrived from Riva on the early mail.

In the light of Constance's effusively cordial invitation, the terse formality of his reply was little short of rude; but Constance read between the lines and was appeased.

The writer, plainly, was angry, and anger was a much more becoming emotion than nonchalance.

As she set out with her father toward the village jail, she was again buoyantly in command of the situation.

She carried a bunch of oleanders, and the pink and white egg basket swung from her arm.