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262 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1920
I couldn't take any pleasure in myself if my face were made up." Pamela swung round on her chair and laid her hands on Jean's shoulders. "Jean," she said, "you're within an ace of being a prig.
"Jean, I'm afraid you're a chirping optimist. You'll reduce me to the depths of depression if you insist on being so bright. Rather help me to rail against fate, and so cheer me."
“My feelings," said Jean, "don't matter at all. Even if there was nothing else in the way, what about Davie and Jock and the dear Mhor? I must always stick to them—at least until they don't need me any longer."