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to you. I'm so sorry I haven't time to drive you down to Madison Square." Clavering, drawing a long breath as if he had escaped from imminent danger, saw her into her car and then walked briskly home. He intended to dine alone tonight. And in a moment he had forgotten Anne Goodrich as completely as he had forgotten Janet Oglethorpe. XXVIII He called for Madame Zattiany at ten o'clock. This time she was standing in the hall as the man opened the door, and she came out immediately. A lace scarf almost concealed her face. "I didn't order the car," she said. "It is such a fine night, and she lives so near. Do you mind?" "I much prefer to walk, but your slippers----" "They are dark and the heels not too high." "I'm not going to make the slightest preliminary attempt at indifference tonight, nor wait for one of your leads. How long do you intend to stay at this party?" "Oh, an hour, possibly. One must not be rude." Her own tones were not even, but he could not see her face. "But you'll keep your word and tell me everything tonight?" She gave a deep sigh. "Yes, I'll keep my word. No more now--please! . . . Tell me, what do they do at these parties besides talk--dance?" "Not always. They have charades, spelling matches, pick a word out of a hat and make impromptu speeches----" "But _Mon dieu_!" She stopped short and pushed back her scarf. Whatever expression she may have wished to conceal there was nothing now in her face but dismay. "But you did not tell me this or I should not have accepted. I never bore myself. I understood these were your intellectuals. Charades! Spelling matches! Words in the hat! It sounds like a small town moved to New York." "Well, a good many of them are from small towns and they rather pride themselves on preserving some of the simplicities of rural life and juvenescence, while leading an exaggerated mental life for which nature designed no man. Perhaps it is merely owing to an obscure warning to preserve the balance. Or an innocent arrogance akin to Mrs. Oglethorpe's when she is looking her dowdiest. . . . But Gora often has good music . . . still, if you don't want to go on I'm sure I do not." "No," she said hurriedly. "I shall go. But--I am still astonished. I do not know what I expected. But brilliant conversation, probably, such as one hears in a European salon. Don't they relax their great minds at outdoor sports? I understan
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