"It is very red, though."
"Lipstick, probably."
"But I thought you liked small, red mouths."
"Hate 'em," said Benis, who had a shockingly bad memory.
Desire went to bed thoughtful. "I suppose," she thought as she lay
listening to the swinging train, "men like certain things because
they belong to certain people and not because they like them really
at all." This was not very lucid but it seemed to satisfy Desire for
she stopped thinking and went to sleep.
Morning found them on the top of the world. desire was up and out
long before the mists had lifted. She watched the wonder of their
going, she saw the coming of the sun. She drew in, with great deep
breaths, the high, sweet air. The cream of her skin glowed softly
with the tang of it.
"Quite lovely!" said a voice behind her, and Desire turned to find
her solitude shared by the young old lady from Golden.
"Your complexion, I mean, my dear," said she, sitting down
comfortably in the folds of a fur coat. "I never use adjectives
about the mountains. It would seem impertinent. How old are you?"
Desire gave her age smiling. "Charming age," nodded the old lady.
"Youth is a wonderful thing. See that you keep it."
"Like you?" said Desire, her smile brightening.
The old lady looked pleased.
"Quite so," she said. "Never allow yourself to believe that silly
folly about a woman being as old as she looks. As if a mirror had
more mind than the person looking in it! I remember very well waking
up on the morning of my thirtieth birthday and thinking, 'I am
thirty.
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