But she disapproved more and more of her own mental austerity. You're on the way to big things. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Put on that new dress—the one that's all white. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. She let out a wail.
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