Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. \" Michelle met her at her locker, right on schedule, carrying a backpack so overstuffed it was its own conversation piece. ” She looked into her glass. Come back with me to-night. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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