understand the relative value of things, but they make the charm of life, for one reason or another.

7

When I have seen these three I will dissect them. A divorcée—a war widow of two years—and the third with a husband fighting.

All, Maurice assures me, ready for anything, and highly attractive. It will do me a great deal of good, he protests. We shall see.

Night. They came, with Maurice and Alwood Chester, of the American Red Cross. They gave little shrill screams of admiration for the room.

"Quel endroit delicieux!—What boiserie! English?—Yes, of course, English dix-septième, one could see—What silver!—and cleaned—And everything of a chic!—And the hermit so séduisant with his air maussade!—Hein."

"Yes, the war is much too long—One has given of one's time in the first year—but now, really, fatigue has overcome one!—and surely after the spring offensive peace must come soon—and one must live!"

They smoked continuously and devoured the chocolate cake, then they had liqueurs.

They were so well dressed! and so lissome. They wore elastic corsets, or none at all. They were well painted; cheeks of the new tint, rather apricot coloured—and magenta lips. They had arranged themselves when they had finished munching, bringing out their gold looking-glasses and their lip grease and their powder—and the divorcee continued to endeavour8 to enthrall my senses with her voluptuous half closing of the eyes, while she reddened her full mouth.

8

They spoke of the theatre, and the last bons mots about their chères amies—the last liasons—the last passions—They spoke of Gabrielle—her husband was killed last week—'So foolish of him, since one of Alice's 'friends' among the Ministers could easily have got him a soft job, and one must always help one's friends! Alice adored Gabrielle.—But he has left her well provided for—Gabrielle will look well in her crepe—and there it is, war is war—Que voulez vous?'

"After all, will it be as agreeable if peace does come this summer?—One will be able to dance openly—that will be nice—but for the rest? It may be things will be more difficult—and there may be complications. One has been very well during the war—very well, indeed—N'est ce pas ma cherie—n'est ce pas?"

Thus they talked.

 Prev. P 3/208 next