Palmer!" cried Brent, in a low voice.
She started. The beautiful room, the environment of luxury
and taste and comfort came back.
Gourdain interrupted and then Palmer.
The four went to the Cafe Anglais for dinner. Brent announced
that he was going to the Riviera soon to join a party of
friends. "I wish you would visit me later," said he, with a
glance that included them all and rested, as courtesy
required, upon Susan. "There's room in my villa--barely room."
"We've not really settled here," said Susan. "And we've taken
up French seriously."
"The weather's frightful," said Palmer, with a meaning glance
at her. "I think we ought to go."
But her expression showed that she had no intention of going,
no sympathy with Palmer's desire to use this excellent, easy
ladder of Brent's offering to make the ascent into secure
respectability.
"Next winter, then," said Brent, who was observing her.
"Or--in the early spring, perhaps."
"Oh, we may change our minds and come," Palmer suggested
eagerly. "I'm going to try to persuade my wife."
"Come if you can," said Brent cordially. "I'll have no one
stopping with me."
When they were alone, Palmer sent his valet away and fussed
about impatiently until Susan's maid had unhooked her dress
and had got her ready for bed. As the maid began the long
process of giving her hair a thorough brushing, he said,
"Please let her go, Susan.
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