“Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. Both ladies were on easy and friendly terms with all that was best in Morningside Park society; they had an afternoon once a month that was quite well attended, they sometimes gave musical evenings, they dined out and gave a finish to people’s dinners, they had a full-sized croquet lawn and tennis beyond, and understood the art of bringing people together. “If you say so, Lucy. ’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. . “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
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