The woollen-draper looked at his watch. Men ought not to idealize any woman. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. ” He paused. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. That's the way she strikes me. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. The movie droned on, the sounds becoming manageable except for the frequent high-pitched screams of young girls when a poltergeist manifestation would leap out of a shadow.
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