The Garden Party, and Other Stories

bed it was only their bodies that lay down and rested; their minds went on, thinkin

ides, her feet just overlapping each other, the

uld mind if we gave his

ne. "Why ever the porter? Wha

t the cemetery that he only had a bowler." She paused. "I thought then how very much he'd ap

felt in the least like giggling. It must have been habit. Years ago, when they had stayed awake at night talking, their beds had simply heaved. And now the porter's head, disappearing, po

de to-morrow

noticed nothi

t to have our dressin

most shriek

n't seem quite sincere, in a way, to wear black out of door

es such a twitch that both her feet became uncovered, and s

stantia. "And the pos

antia's favourite indefinite green ones which went with hers. Black! Two black dressing-g

's absolutely nec

e papers with the notice in them to-morrow to catch the

ty-th

handkerchief, and on some of them even to soak up a very light-blue tear with an edge of blotting-paper. Strange! She couldn't have put it on-but

ugh stamps?" came

osephine crossly. "What's th

dering," said C

e came a little rus

" said Co

cause there aren't any

now there aren't,

ed she'd left a tiny piece of biscuit on the dressing-table. It

ey manage to live at

emanded

more loudly than s

sense, Con!" she said. "What have mi

Constantia. She shut her

olded her arms so that her fists came under her ea