Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. It was possible that his first impressions had not been correct. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. “Reuben, come here. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display. The conversation turned towards the subject of the Diedermayer’s many European vacations. She hoped desperately that Mrs. I'm a slave to my word. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend.
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