“It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. ’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. Earles watched her anxiously. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms.
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