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The other's perfect little face collapsed。 〃A…bo…minable？
A…bo…mi…nable？ Susy！〃
〃Yes 。。。 with Nelson 。。。 and Clarissa 。。。 and your past
together 。。。 and all the money you can possibly want 。。。 and
that man！ Abominable。〃
Ellie stood up trembling： she was not used to scenes； and they
disarranged her thoughts as much as her complexion。
〃You're very cruel； Susyso cruel and dreadful that I hardly
know how to answer you；〃 she stammered。 〃But you simply don't
know what you're talking about。 As if anybody ever had all the
money they wanted！〃 She wiped her dark…rimmed eyes with a
cautious handkerchief； glanced at herself in the mirror； and
added magnanimously： 〃But I shall try to forget what you've
said。〃
XIX
JUST such a revolt as she had felt as a girl； such a disgusted
recoil from the standards and ideals of everybody about her as
had flung her into her mad marriage with Nick； now flamed in
Susy Lansing's bosom。
How could she ever go back into that world again？ How echo its
appraisals of life and bow down to its judgments？ Alas； it was
only by marrying according to its standards that she could
escape such subjection。 Perhaps the same thought had actuated
Nick： perhaps he had understood sooner than she that to attain
moral freedom they must both be above material cares。
Perhaps 。。。
Her talk with Ellie Vanderlyn had left Susy so oppressed and
humiliated that she almost shrank from her meeting with
Altringham the next day。 She knew that he was coming to Paris
for his final answer； he would wait as long as was necessary if
only she would consent to take immediate steps for a divorce。
She was staying at a modest hotel in the Faubourg St。 Germain；
and had once more refused his suggestion that they should lunch
at the Nouveau Luxe； or at some fashionable restaurant of the
Boulevards。 As before； she insisted on going to an out…of…the…
way place near the Luxembourg； where the prices were moderate
enough for her own purse。
〃I can't understand；〃 Strefford objected； as they turned from
her hotel door toward this obscure retreat； 〃why you insist on
giving me bad food； and depriving me of the satisfaction of
being seen with you。 Why must we be so dreadfully clandestine？
Don't people know by this time that we're to be married？〃
Susy winced a little： she wondered if the word would always
sound so unnatural on his lips。
〃No；〃 she said； with a laugh； 〃they simply think； for the
present； that you're giving me pearls and chinchilla cloaks。〃
He wrinkled his brows good…humouredly。 〃Well； so I would； with
joyat this particular minute。 Don't you think perhaps you'd
better take advantage of it？ I don't wish to insistbut I
foresee that I'm much too rich not to become stingy。〃
She gave a slight shrug。 〃At present there's nothing I loathe
more than pearls and chinchilla； or anything else in the world
that's expensive and enviable 。。。。〃
Suddenly she broke off； colouring with the consciousness that
she had said exactly the kind of thing that all the women who
were trying for him （except the very cleverest） would be sure to
say； and that he would certainly suspect her of attempting the
conventional comedy of disinterestedness； than which nothing was
less likely to deceive or to flatter him。
His twinkling eyes played curiously over her face； and she went
on； meeting them with a smile： 〃But don't imagine； all the
same； that if I should 。。。 decide 。。。 it would be altogether for
your beaux yeux 。。。。〃
He laughed； she thought； rather drily。 〃No；〃 he said； 〃I don't
suppose that's ever likely to happen to me again。〃
〃Oh； Streff〃 she faltered with compunction。 It was odd…once
upon a time she had known exactly what to say to the man of the
moment； whoever he was； and whatever kind of talk he required；
she had even； in the difficult days before her marriage； reeled
off glibly enough the sort of lime…light sentimentality that
plunged poor Fred Gillow into such speechless beatitude。 But
since then she had spoken the language of real love； looked with
its eyes； embraced with its hands； and now the other trumpery
art had failed her； and she was conscious of bungling and
groping like a beginner under Strefford's ironic scrutiny。
They had reached their obscure destination and he opened the
door and glanced in。
〃It's jammednot a table。 And stifling！ Where shall we go？
Perhaps they could give us a room to ourselves〃 he suggested。
She assented； and they were led up a cork…screw staircase to a
squat…ceilinged closet lit by the arched top of a high window；
the lower panes of which served for the floor below。 Strefford
opened the window； and Susy； throwing her cloak on the divan；
leaned on the balcony while he ordered luncheon。
On the whole she was glad they were to be alone。 Just because
she felt so sure of Strefford it seemed ungenerous to keep him
longer in suspense。 The moment had come when they must have a
decisive talk； and in the crowded rooms below it would have been
impossible。
Strefford； when the waiter had brought the first course and left
them to themselves； made no effort to revert to personal
matters。 He turned instead to the topic always most congenial
to him： the humours and ironies of the human comedy； as
presented by his own particular group。 His malicious commentary
on life had always amused Susy because of the shrewd flashes of
philosophy he shed on the social antics they had so often
watched together。 He was in fact the one person she knew
（excepting Nick） who was in the show and yet outside of it； and
she was surprised； as the talk proceeded； to find herself so
little interested in his scraps of gossip； and so little amused
by his comments on them。
With an inward shrug of discouragement she said to herself that
probably nothing would ever really amuse her again； then； as she
listened； she began to understand that her disappointment arose
from the fact that Strefford； in reality； could not live without
these people whom he saw through and satirized； and that the
rather commonplace scandals he narrated interested him as much
as his own racy considerations on them； and she was filled with
terror at the thought that the inmost core of the richly…
decorated life of the Countess of Altringham would be just as
poor and low…ceilinged a place as the little room in which he
and she now sat； elbow to elbow yet so unapproachably apart。
If Strefford could not live without these people； neither could
she and Nick； but for reasons how different！ And if his
opportunities had been theirs； what a world they would have
created for themselves！ Such imaginings were vain； and she
shrank back from them into the present。 After all； as Lady
Altringham she would have the power to create that world which
she and Nick had dreamed 。。。 only she must create it alone。
Well； that was probably the law of things。