Page 434 - tender-is-the-night

in the whiteness of her cheeks and her white teeth and her
cool brow and the hand that touched his face. Still attuned
to Dick, she waited for interpretation or qualification; but
none was forthcoming. Reassured sleepily and happily that
none would be, she sank low in the seat and drowsed until
the sound of the motor changed and she felt them climbing
toward Villa Diana. At the gate she kissed him an almost
automatic good-by. The sound of her feet on the walk was
changed, the night noises of the garden were suddenly in
the past but she was glad, none the less, to be back. The day
had progressed at a staccato rate, and in spite of its satisfac-
tions she was not habituated to such strain.

434 Tender is the Night