He had not seen Shirley since that morning when the earth had slipped from under his feet at the bungalow.
The Claibornes had been back and forth often between Washington and Storm Springs.

The Judge had just been appointed a member of the Brazilian boundary commission which was to meet shortly in Berlin, and Mrs.
Claiborne and Shirley were to go with him.

In the Claiborne garden, beyond and below, he saw a flash of white here and there among the dark green hedges.

He paused, leaned against a pillar, and waited until Shirley crossed one of the walks and passed slowly on, intent upon the rose trees; and he saw--or thought he saw--the sun searching out the gold in her brown hair.

She was hatless.