He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. She crooked her finger. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. And I want him out of uniform. I have no right to love you. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. We think if we just defy the friends we have and go out into the world everything will become easy and splendid. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. My Mom’s stomach has a lot of bad scars that make it look all ropy and weird.
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