“They ought to have been lopped in the spring. She is no longer mine; she is yours. They tried to read illustrated papers in an unconcerned manner and with forced attention, lest they should catch the leaping exultation in each other’s eyes. ” She swept out of the room. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. But it is the truth. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. . It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume.
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