She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. "What's the matter?" repeated Mrs.
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