I’ll have to think of something else. It is the vapouring school girl. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. It fell with a clatter to the floor. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette.
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