The gleaming curves of her neck and shoulders rose out of their filmy sheathings of lace . Spencer , sitting where he could see her face with its rose-leaf bloom and the ringlets of golden hair clustering about it , gazed at her , unheeding of aught else . Estella saw his look . She suddenly began to hate the black-eyed witch at the organ -- and to fear her as well . Why did Spencer look at her like that ? She wished she had not brought him in at all . She felt commonplace and angry , and wanted to cry . Vivienne LeMar went on singing , drifting from one sweet love song into another . Once she looked up at Spencer Morgan . He rose quickly and went to her side , looking down at her with a strange fire in his eyes . Estella got up abruptly and left the room . She was angry and jealous , but she thought Spencer would follow her . When he did not , she could not believe it . She waited on the porch for him , not knowing whether she were more angry or miserable . She would not go back into the room . Vivienne LeMar had stopped singing . She could hear a low murmur of voices . When she had waited there an hour , she went in and upstairs to her room with ostentatious footsteps . She was too angry to cry or to realize what had happened , and still kept hoping all sorts of impossible things as she sat by her window . It was ten o'clock when Spencer went away and Vivienne LeMar passed up the hall to her room .
Estella clenched her hands in an access XXXXX helpless rage .
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