Just in time. Ki!
Surprised to find you in town, Mrs. Lorillard.
I've been away for two days. I scarcely ever go to the country, never for long. It's dull and lonely and hot; a convention, this going to the country. New York is an ideal summer-resort. I like it better in the summer than I do in the winter. Only one detail I deplore: the straight streets. The cow-paths, the lanes, the byways, and the turnings exist only in quarters I never visit.
But don't you go to Europe?
Europe! Why all this racing over Europe? I did the museums when I was seventeen. Paris is provincial, démodé. Nothing remains but the dressmakers, and they work only for American women. As for the people . . . people are the same everywhere. If you have imagination, you don't need to travel.
Hadn't thought of it. Guess you're right. I've got to stick. It's a good idea to have reasons. I'll use yours. May I?
I expect you to.
Paul, Campaspe noted, was beginning to look a trifle perturbed. He dreaded, she said to herself, the coming encounter, but Harold's entrance proved a happy surprise for both of them. He was so young, so entirely adequate in appearance. Even with the ideas of an adolescent he would do, would pass. He did resemble a frightened dormouse, but
