Page:To-morrow Morning (1927).pdf/174

 had forgotten to have any tea. She poured herself a cup and drank it thirstily.

How had she looked to him? Had she been lovely in his eyes? She tried to see herself in the mirror in the positions he had seen. Awful! She powdered her nose and put on some lip salve to help things; they did, but too late now!

Only one more day. She remembered Clara's song:

The next morning. Her bath water roared in, steaming. The mirror showed her a face veiled like a bride, then changed to a sheet of secret silver. She poured in almost a third of the big bottle of bath salts. The green crystals melted in the faint green of the hot water—well, not entirely; some of them were still very sharp to siton. She had a book open on the rim of the tub, but she was too happy to read. She was really floating in this quivering cloud of heat and fragrance. She lay smoking one of the amber cigarettes Ralph Levinson had given her, that made her feel a little dizzy, paying no attention to Mrs. Thorne's cries: "Don't lie there soaking, Evelyn; it's very weakening!"

"Miss Ev ' lyn! Miss Ev ' lyn! Mistah Green's hyah!"

"Heavens! Tell him to wait a minute"