The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Horrid snorters! So long, Vee! Just suggested it. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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