She seldom touched her piano--save to dust it--and she never touched her half-finished song-manuscript, long since banished to the oblivion of the music cabinet.

She made no calls except occasional flying visits to the Annex, or to the pretty new home where Marie and Cyril were now delightfully settled.

The opera and the Symphony were over for the season, but even had they not been, Billy could not have attended them.

She had no time.

Surely she was not doing any "gallivanting" now, she told herself sometimes, a little aggrievedly.
There was, indeed, no time.