If she were not a Come-Outer, he could meet her occasionally and they might become friends.

She was a disconcerting young person, who lacked proper respect for one of his profession and laughed when she shouldn't--but she was interesting, he admitted that.
And then he saw her.

She was standing just at the outer edge of the grove, leaning against a tree and looking toward the sunset.

She wore a simple white dress and her hat hung upon her shoulders by its ribbons.
The rosy light edged the white gown with pink and the fringes of her dark hair were crinkly lines of fire.

Her face was grave, almost sad.
John Ellery stood still, with one foot uplifted for a step.