“And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. ” “You will make me horribly conceited,” he answered. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. He squatted and threw his arm around the backs of her knees. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. ’ ‘In this case, I do not at all wish to marry you,’ Melusine threw at him furiously.
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