He was there, smoking calmly and waiting. At sight of
her he rose. "You'll have lunch?" said he.
"No, thanks."
"A small bottle of champagne?"
"Yes--I'm rather tired."
He ordered the champagne. "And," said he, "it'll be the real
thing--which mighty few New Yorkers get even at the best
places." When it came he sent the waiter away and filled the
glasses himself. He touched the brim of his glass to the
bottom of hers. "To the new deal," said he.
She smiled and nodded, and emptied the glass. Suddenly it
came to her why she felt so differently toward him. She saw
the subtle, yet radical change that always transforms a man of
force of character when his position in the world notably
changes. This man before her, so slightly different in
physical characteristics from the man she had fled, was wholly
different in expression.
"When shall we sail?" asked he. "Tomorrow?"
"First--there's the question of money," said she.
He was much amused. "Still worrying about your independence."
"No," replied she. "I've been thinking it out, and I don't
feel any anxiety about that. I've changed my scheme of life.
I'm going to be sensible and practice what life has taught me.
It seems there's only one way for a woman to get up. Through
some man."
Freddie nodded. "By marriage or otherwise, but always through
a man."
"So I've discovered," continued she. "So, I'm going to play
the game.
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