"Where?" she cried. Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. It was a mass of knick-knacks. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. “It’s a matter of feeling with me.
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