CHAPTER TENStacy took the quarter past two bus to Ledstow. She wore a printed linen dress in shades of grey and blue, and nothing on her head except a good deal of really pretty brown hair. Brown hair can be very pretty indeed. Stacy’s had lights in it and glints, and it curled because it was curly. It was, in fact, her one undeniable beauty. She knew as well as anyone else that she had neither Features nor a Complexion. Not in the sense in which these words constitute a claim to beauty. She had a nice skin and a pair of quite good grey eyes. Sometimes when she didn’t see them herself they had rather a charming expression—something young, sensitive, aware, and rather sweet. For the rest—forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin—there wasn’t very much to be said. They were there, just a forehead, a
