Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. ‘R-rien. No: I must face it out. The dress of this person was excessively showy, and consisted of a scarlet riding-habit, lined and faced with blue, and bedizened with broad gold lace, a green silk-knit waistcoat, embroidered with silver, and decorated with a deep fringe, together with a hat tricked out in the same gaudy style. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation.
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