The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist.
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