The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. The woman shrugged her shoulders. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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