“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. It can wait a bit longer.
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