The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex. Fire; she was full of it. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily.
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