I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I came here this afternoon hoping particularly to see you for a few moments before you signed that contract. ” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair. But you belong to me—and I want you.
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