“What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. I presume that you have been living alone?” She sighed gently. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. In an instant, she turned on him. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression.
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