The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. Diane, more than a little envious of the girls’ youthful excitement, set Michelle's curfew at 10:30. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others. His hand flew across the paper.
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