Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood.
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