He felt glad that the girl had a woman like Sylvia to care for her.
As he looked Sylvia's shadow passed between the window and the light.
It had, in its shadowy enlargement, a benignant aspect.

There was an angelic, motherly bend to the vague shoulders.

Sylvia was really in her element.

She petted and scolded the girl, whom she found flung upon her bed like a castaway flower, sobbing pitifully.
"What on earth is the matter ?" demanded Sylvia, in a honeyed tone, which at once stung and sweetened.

"Here you are in the dark, crying and going without your victuals.