happy and certain and sure? His mind was one, not broken up into competing yearnings.
"Competition is the life of trade," she said.
Looking up, she wondered if she had said something accidentally witty. From the other side of the room Ruth was regarding her strangely. Beyond Ruth, black against the blanched evening, were George and Joyce on the veranda steps. . . . Oh, so that was what Martin had meant?
Ben's face was so perplexed and bored, she took pity on him.
"What would you people like to do? Play cards? We can't dance, there isn't any music."
Ruth was quite content not to dance; she suspected she would have had to take Ben as a partner. "Ben's favourite game is Twenty Questions," she said.
"Gracious, I haven't played that in ages. It'll be rather fun. Here come the others, let's do it."
George seemed almost like a stranger, Phyllis thought. She had an impish desire to ask to be introduced. It amused her to think that any one should want to kiss him.
"What a gorgeous night." He spoke loudly, rather as if someone might contradict. "Here's your scarf," he added, almost roughly, holding it
