'Look at that girl over there,' whispered a man seated a few rows behind the Millers to a young woman whose hymn-book he was sharing.
The young woman raised her eyes.
'I see her.'
'Lovely, isn't she?' the man replied.
The woman nodded. Roger was always seeing lovely things everywhere. Promiscuously. She would have shrugged if she hadn't been in church.
'With that light on her, I mean, and that expression,' he explained.
Amusing Roger! It was only little Sheilah Miller standing in a shaft of sunlight that the sexton had been careless enough to allow inside the church to disturb the parishioners as it strayed from pew to pew, staring up into it and singing.
'Who was that girl?' Roger persisted as he walked home from church that noon with Cicely Morgan.
'Why, Roger, she's only a child. Still in the high-school.' And she did shrug now. 'You wouldn't be interested, my dear.'
Cicely was always quipping him like that lately.
