" "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. ” “Tell me more. And, in fact, all round the problem you don’t know and I don’t see how I could possibly have told you before. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments.
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