"Positive; except, of course, to her Creator. Isn't it wonderful to think that those three women are contemporaries of Lady Sellingworth?" "Indeed it is! But surely you didn't let them know that you knew they were? Or shall I say know they are?" She smiled, showing perfect teeth, and shook her corn-coloured head. "You see, I'm so young and live in Paris! And then I'm American. They have no idea how much I know. I just let them suppose that I only knew they were old enough to remember Lady Sellingworth when she was still a reigning beauty. I implied that they were buds then." "And they accepted the implication?" "Oh, they are women of the world! They just swallowed it very quietly, as a well-bred person swallows a small easy-going bonbon." Craven could not help laughing. As he did so he saw in Miss Van Tuyn's eyes the thought: "You think me witty, and you're not far out." "And did you glean any knowledge of Lady Sellingworth?" he asked. "Oh, yes; quite a good deal. Mrs. Ackroyde showed me a photograph of her as she was about eleven years ago." "A year before the plunge!" "Yes. She looked very handsome in the photograph. Of course, it was tremendously touched up. Still, it gave me a real idea of what she must once have been. But, oh! how she has changed!" "Naturally!" "I mean in expression. In the photograph she looks vain, imperious. Do you know how a woman looks who is always on the watch for new lovers?" "Well--yes, I think perhaps I do." "Lady Sellingworth in the photograph has that on the pounce expression." "That's rather awful, isn't it?" "Yes; because, of course, one can see she isn't really at all young. It's only a _fausse jeunesse_ after all, but still very effective. The gap between the woman of the photograph and the woman of 18A Berkeley Square is as the gulf between Dives and Lazarus. I shouldn't have loved her then. But perhaps--perhaps a man might have thought he did. I mean in the real way of a man--perhaps." Craven did not inquire what Miss Van Tuyn meant exactly by
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