As they talked thus, on the little verandah of the bungalow, the night fell, there was a little warm rain.
“ It is really stifling,” said Miss Inger.
They watched a train, whose lights were pale in the lingering twilight, rushing across the distance.
“ It will thunder,” said Ursula.
The electric suspense continued, the darkness sank, they were eclipsed.
“ I think I shall go and bathe,” said Miss Inger, out of the cloud-black darkness.
“ At night?” said Ursula.
“ It is best at night. Will you come?”
“ I should like to.”
“ It is quite safe—the grounds are private. We had better undress in the bungalow, for fear of the rain, then run down.”
Shyly, stiffly, Ursula went into the bungalow, and began to remove her clothes. The lamp was turned low, she stood in the shadow.
