tan tie nor did she under-appraise the delicate yet mature swell
of calf outlined in the fresh brown of a new cotton stocking.
Down from the chair, she pinned on a firm sailor hat of white
straw with a brown ribbon around the crown that matched her
ribbon belt. She rubbed her cheeks quickly and fiercely to bring
back the color Sarah had driven out of them, and delayed a moment
longer to put on her tan lisle-thread gloves. Once, in the
fashion-page of a Sunday supplement, she had read that no lady
ever put on her gloves after she left the door.

With a resolute self-grip, as she crossed the parlor and passed
the door to Sarah's bedroom, through the thin wood of which came
elephantine moanings and low slubberings, she steeled herself to
keep the color in her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes. And
so well did she succeed that Billy never dreamed that the
radiant, live young thing, tripping lightly down the steps to
him, had just come from a bout with soul-sickening hysteria and
madness.

To her, in the bright sun, Billy's blondness was startling. His
cheeks, smooth as a girl's, were touched with color. The blue
eyes seemed more cloudily blue than usual, and the crisp, sandy
hair hinted more than ever of the pale straw-gold that was not
there. Never had she seen him quite so royally young. As he
smiled to greet her, with a slow white flash of teeth from
between red lips, she caught again the promise of easement and
rest. Fresh from the shattering chaos of her sister-in-law's
mind, Billy's tremendous calm was especially satisfying, and
Saxon mentally laughed to scorn the terrible temper he had
charged to himself.