Belinda and Loring were already in the drawing-room when she entered.
Belinda stood by a table fingering a vase of Hortensias. She broke one
off just then and twirled it nervously. Loring was lighting a cigarette.
It seemed troublesome to light. His hand shook a little.
Sophy paused just within the door, drawing on her gloves, her eyes on
Belinda. The pale, mauve-blue flower against the girl's flame-coloured
gown made an odd, decadent note. She was all in red chiffon--a silver
girdle about her waist--poppies with silver hearts over one ear.
"'Colour of blood ... colour of my heart...." Sophy thought, and it was
hard to keep her lip from curling to the sneer in her thought.
She spoke while still busied with her gloves. She said that she hoped
Belinda's trip had been pleasant. Belinda said, Thanks, that it had been
"bully." Sophy then glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter to
eight.
"How very punctual we all are to-night...." she said.