He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. “He and I don’t seem to get on at all with our fellow-guests, as Mrs. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright.
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