IV
AfterthatSundaycall，GypsatinthewindowatBuryStreetclosetoabowlofheliotropeonthewindow-sill。Shewasthinkingoverapassageoftheirconversation。”Mrs。Fiorsen，tellmeaboutyourself。””Why？Whatdoyouwanttoknow？””Yourmarriage？””Imadeafearfulmistake——againstmyfather’swish。Ihaven’tseenmyhusbandformonths；IshallneverseehimagainifIcanhelpit。Isthatenough？””Andyoulovehim？””No。””Itmustbelikehavingyourheadinchancery。Can’tyougetitout？””No。””Why？””Divorce-court！Ugh！Icouldn’t！””Yes，Iknow——it’shellish！”
Washe，whogrippedherhandsohardandsaidthat，reallythesamenonchalantyoungmanwhohadleanedoutofthecarriagewindow，gurglingwithlaughter？Andwhathadmadethedifference？Sheburiedherfaceintheheliotrope，whoseperfumeseemedthememoryofhisvisit；then，goingtothepiano，begantoplay。SheplayedDebussy，McDowell，Ravel；thechordsofmodernmusicsuitedherfeelingsjustthen。Andshewasstillplayingwhenherfathercamein。Duringtheselastninemonthsofhisdaughter’ssociety，hehadregainedadistinctmeasureofyouthfulness，anextratwistinhislittlemoustache，anextratouchofdandyisminhisclothes，andtheglossofhisshorthair。Gypstoppedplayingatonce，andshutthepiano。”Mr。Summerhay’sbeenhere，Dad。Hewassorrytomissyou。”
TherewasanappreciablepausebeforeWintonanswered:”Mydear，Idoubtit。”
AndtherepassedthroughGypthethoughtthatshecouldneveragainbefriendswithamanwithoutgivingthatpause。Then，consciousthatherfatherwasgazingather，sheturnedandsaid:”Well，wasitniceinthePark？””Thirtyyearsagotheywereallnobsandsnobs；nowGodhimselfdoesn’tknowwhattheyare！””Butweren’ttheflowersnice？””Ah——andthetrees，andthebirds——but，byJove，thehumansdotheirbesttodressthebalance！””Whatamisanthropeyou’regetting！””I’dliketorunastudfortwo-leggers；theywantproperbreeding。