Beggar’s Choice

And that’s another thing that’s odd. A

Now is there any co

Quite a lot happened last night. We got the same table at Leonardo’s. Fay seemed awfully bucked about coming, and about half way through di

Rena La Touche was there again, in what looked like a gold snake-skin. Fay told me she was wearing the largest emerald in the world. It was about an inch square, and she said it was flawless. I wondered whether nine hundred and ninety-nine people out of a thousand would have known the difference if it had been suddenly changed for a bit of colored glass. As long as they went on believing it as the biggest emerald in the world they’d have got just the same amount of thrill out of it.

She passed quite close to our table, with the love-sick rabbit about half a pace behind. Just as she was level with us she dropped her bag, a little gold affair with a handle made of twisted snakes. The rabbit picked it up as I was going to make a dive for it myself. She gave me a sort of perfunctory “come hither” look as she put out her hand to take it. She didn’t look at the rabbit at all, and I thought what a jolly time the poor devil must have, fetching and carrying and paying the bills, and buying her emeralds, or seeing other people buy them for her. She took the bag out of his hand, still looking at me, and began to move away.

Our table was against the wall, set into a recess. Just as Rena moved, she looked for an instant at Fay, and it seemed to me that the look asked a question, and it seemed to me that Fay’s eyes said “No.” Rena went on down the room with every one looking at her. Every one was looking at her all the time-they always do. But only Fay and I could have seen her ask that question. I don’t count the rabbit-subhuman and a poor specimen at that.

Fay began to talk rather fast. She pointed out Delphine, the woman whose shop she works in, on the other side of the room.

“Isn’t she smart?” she asked.

I thought she was perfectly hideous. Light-red hair scraped right off her forehead and curling up in wisps at the back of her neck; a sort of hatchet face made up a nasty yellowish white; and bright orange-colored lips put it rather thin and curly. I said what I thought, and I didn’t hear what Fay said, because just then I saw Isobel.

She was coming down the room. She looked pale and a little sad. She used not to look like that; she used to be all sparkle and life and happiness. She wore a dress of some soft blue stuff that was just a little darker than her eyes, and she had a string of pearls round her neck. She looked very beautiful. When I realized that I must be staring, I got my eyes away from her face and saw that she was with a party. There was a dark man with her, a strong stocky sort of fellow, not very tall.

I remembered what A

After Heron-if it was Heron-came Miss Willy Tarrant, full of joie de vivre and talking all the time. She hasn’t changed a bit. She was dressed in something that glittered and clanked like chain mail. Behind her came Bobby Markham. They went right up to the top of the room.

I felt Fay touch my arm. I think she’d been saying something that I hadn’t heard.

“Car-wake up! You’re pretty far gone if she sends you into a trance the moment she appears on the scene.”

I stared at her. She doesn’t know anything about Isobel, so I didn’t know what she was driving at. She looked as if she was angry too. I suppose she thought I was neglecting her.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

She primmed up her lips-I should like to tell her it’s not at all becoming; it always makes me want to slap her-and then she tossed her head.

“Your Clarissa-the very new cousin that no one’s ever heard of before-are you going to pretend you haven’t seen her?”

I hadn’t until that minute, but when Fay said “Clarissa” like that, I saw that Cori

“Why do you call her Clarissa?” I said.

“Isn’t it Clarissa?”

“No-Cori

“What does it matter?”

The rest of di

XVI

After di

We went on dancing. Isobel never looked round. The man that I thought might be Giles Heron was on one side of her, and the elderly man who had come with Cousin Abby on the other. Heron was bending towards her and talking most of the time. He looked a good chap, solid and capable. About the third time we came round, Cori

Just after we’d passed, the music stopped, and so did Fay. We were by Delphine’s table. Fay turned round to speak to her, and the minute she saw that, Cori

“If this isn’t just lovely!” she said; and then, “Are you going to dance with me?”

“You’ve got your party and I’ve got mine,” I said. I should have liked to dance with her very much.

“Come and join us,” said Cori

I was hoping Fay wouldn’t snub the child too hard, when, to my surprise, she said in a hesitating way,

“That’s very kind of you.”

“It will be very kind of you,” said Cori

I said “Yes.” I wondered if Isobel knew that Cori