In due time Congress adjourned, but Maxwell did not go home. He
continued to see Anne. Amy was at last driven to her duty by Murray. She
could not forbid Maxwell the house. There was nothing to do but talk to
Anne.
Having made up her mind she sought Anne's room at once. Anne, in a
cheap cotton kimono, was braiding her hair for the night. The sleeves of
the kimono were short and showed her thin white arms. Amy had on a
blanket wrapper. Her hair was in metal curlers. She looked old and
tired, and now and then she coughed.
Anne got into bed and drew the covers up to her chin. "I'm so cold, I
believe there are icicles on my eyebrows. Amy, my idea of heaven is a
place where it is as hot as--Hades."
"I don't see where you get such ideas. Ethel and I don't talk that way.
We don't even think that way, Anne."
"Maybe when I am as old as you---" Anne began, and was startled at the
look on Amy's face.
"I'm not old!" Amy said passionately. "Anne, I haven't lived at all, and
I'm only thirty."