saw the tears in Lanice's eyes before the girl knew that they had gathered. 'Men are such brutes. Do not think of that...unpleasant experience, think only of the great things that your brush shall do.'
She took her by her slender arms and shook her enthusiastically. Lanice felt the terrible nausea return with the tears that constricted her throat. The prodigious tropical trees upon the walls and her cousin's narrow ash blond face suddenly fogged with tears. Her own mouth squared childishly.
'Would you like some hot milk?'
She shook her head.
'Your room?'
'Yes,' she assented mournfully.
Pauline patted her hand, and chatted as she led her up two flights of stairs to a lovely yellow room whose walls were quaintly printed with emerald pagodas, red Chinese mandarins, and blue birds. Pauline whispered to her the tea hour in the tone of a conspirator, left her alone, and with elaborate tact tiptoed downstairs.
