For a moment she stood inhaling the scent,
then stretched out her arm, offering their fragrance to him.
"The first night I ever knew you, you sent me about a wagon-load of
violets," she said carelessly.
He nodded pleasantly; she tossed her muff on to the library table,
stripped off her gloves, and began to unhook her fur coat, declining his
aid with a quick shake of her head.
"It is easy--you see!"--as the sleeves slid from her arms and the soft
mass of fur fell into a chair. "And, by the way, Drina said that you
couldn't wait to see Nina," she continued, turning to face a mirror and
beginning to withdraw the jewelled pins from her hat, "so you won't for
a moment consider it necessary to remain just because I wandered
in--will you?"
He made no reply; she was still busy with her veil and hat and her
bright, glossy hair, the ends of which curled up at the temples--a
burnished frame for her cheeks which the cold had delicately flushed to
a wild-rost tint. Then, brushing back the upcurled tendrils of her hair,
she turned to confront him, faintly smiling, brows lifted in silent
repetition of her question.
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