Rebecca and Jane were sitting on the balcony for the past hour or so.

“Some of those men are looking in your direction,” Jane said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go and talk to them? They seem interested in you.”

“Their interest is like passing wind,” Rebecca indifferently said. “It’s a waste of time to even entertain them.”

“How can you say that without even talking to them? You talk like you used to in the past,” Jane snorted. “Is your heart growing cold again after Benyamin died?”

“I’m not