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What a relief, Nadya thought; in that light he would not be able to tell that she had been crying.”You mean if it weren’t for the blackout you wouldn’t have come?” Dasha took up Shchagov’s tone, flirting unconsciously, as she did with every unmarried man she met.”By no means, never. In bright light women’s faces are deprived of all their charm; it reveals their spiteful expressions, their envious glances, their premature wrinkles, their heavy cosmetics.”Nadya shuddered at the words “envious glances”—it was as if he had overheard their argument.Shchagov went on:” If I were a woman, I would make it a law that lights be kept low. Then everyone would soon have a husband.”Dasha looked disapprovingly at Shchagov. He always talked that way, and she didn’t like it. All his phrases seemed memorized, insincere.
