Statia

Statia was unquestionably pale that evening when, after some delay, she came into the parlor to greet me.

When I began to allude to Statia and to detail her conversations with me, my typewriter's face was at times suffused with pink.

When the end of the fourth chapter was reached, and we took our noonday rest, she spoke at some length about Statia.

The enmity of the British for Holland, and especially against Statia, was no secret.