"Anyway, Jules has had a good time for once in his life." The thought cheered her so much that, when Marie came in to light the lamps, Joyce was walking up and down the room with her hands behind her back, singing.
As soon as she was dressed for dinner she went down-stairs, but found no one in the drawing-room.

A small fire burned cozily on the hearth, for the November nights were growing chilly.

Joyce picked up a book and tried to read, but found herself looking towards the door fully as often as at the page before her.

Presently she set her teeth together and swallowed hard, for there was a rustling in the hall.

The portiere was pushed aside and madame swept into the room in a dinner-gown of dark red velvet.
To Joyce's waiting eyes she seemed more imposing, more elegant, and more unapproachable than she had ever been before.