Instead she felt as if it was a part of herself, part of the flame that he had awoken in her and which she knew was the flame of love.
With an effort Pierre took his eyes from hers and slipped on one of the slippers he had brought for her.
It was just a little too large.
He kissed her left foot before fitting the other.
Then he rose to his feet and smiled at her.
“Now,” he said, “we have to do something about your hair.”
Vada put up her hands a little uncertainly.
She had forgotten that her hair was loose.
Fair, like sunshine in the light from the lamps, it fell over her shoulders nearly to her waist.
“I suppose my hairpins – are all left – behind with my clothes,” she said.
“That is something I did not think of,” Pierre said, “and I don’t like to disturb my friend again.”
“No –
