“Oh—men!” said Laura disdainfully. “Well, Justin’s not a cherub, is he? He’s not just a face and a boa.” “I don’t think,” said Laura, with careful forbearance, “that perhaps you quite understand Justin. He’s not quite ordinary, you know. He wants a lot of understanding.” “Oh, go along!” said Coral. “Oh, I’m going. I’m going through the woods with Justin. We fixed it yesterday. Come too? It would do you good.” But Coral only shrugged her shoulders with an air that Laura thought ungracious. It had been an effort, though she liked her, to ask Coral to join them. But she had been struck by a certain dreariness in Coral’s pose, as she moved aimlessly across the room. The room itself, as she looked at it, deepened the effect, for it was curious how Coral, in spite of the well-trained housemaids, had contrived to make her comfortable quarters appear squalid. Her windows were more than shut, they insisted that they had never been opened. Pink powder had been spilled: soiled blue ribbons, a string of pearl beads, and the switch that did not match Coral’s hair by daylight, hung, entangled, from a half-shut drawer. Coral had been lying down when Laura came in, and the state of Mrs. Cloud’s embroidered quilt would have moved even tolerant Mrs. Cloud. Her book and her slippers had been flung across the room and the skirt out of which she had stepped still lay, a pool of silk, upon the floor. Yet she herself remained as neat as a hair-net and tight corsets could make her. That, thought Laura, who was untidy in other fashion, was what amazed one so in Coral. She was like a trim yacht in a scummy harbour, incongruously yet indubitably anchored and at home. The spectacle distressed Laura, too young to think it right to let people be comfortable in their own way; but it distressed her still more to think of Coral sitting there moping all the afternoon. She was afraid she had talked too much—she had forgotten how near a cry it was from Justin to John.... Poor Coral!... It wasn’t fair to tell of blue skies to a blind man.... She couldn’t leave Coral to sit by herself in that pig-sty and brood.... She turned back into the room. “Look here, Coral—you’ve got to come out with us.” “Wouldn’t Justin be pleased!” said Coral, without moving. “Of course he would,” Laura lied stoutly. Coral winked. It is difficult to be a Samaritan when the object of your solicitude winks at you; but Laura managed it. “Where’s your hat?” she insisted. “It’ll do you good, a walk.” “I know when I’m not wanted, thank-you,” said Coral, without expression. But Laura thought she understood. “If you mean—because of us——” She blushed faintly, stumbling over her words, “There’s nothing—you needn’t—”