face, at the height of her
physical perfection. George had a great fondness for her. Years earlier
he had wondered how it was that he had not fallen in love with her
instead of with Lois. But he knew the reason now. She lacked force of
individuality. She was an adorer by instinct. She adored Lois; Lois
could do no wrong. More strange, she adored her husband. Ingenuous
simpleton! Yet wise! Another thing was that her mind was too pure.
Instead of understanding, it rejected. It was a mind absolutely
impregnable to certain phenomena. And this girl still enjoyed musical
comedies and their successors in vogue, the revues!

"The Germans have taken Namur," George announced.

The news impressed. Even the young woman in black permitted herself by a
facial gesture to show that she was interested in the war as well as in
tea-gowns, and apart from its effect on tea-gowns.

"Oh! Dear!" murmured Laurencine.

"Is it serious?" Lois demanded.

"You bet it is!" George replied.

"But what's Sir John French doing, then? I say, Laurencine, I think I
shall have that pale blue one, after all, if you don't mind." The black
young woman went across to the piano and brought the pale blue one.
"George, don't you think so?"

The gown was deferentially held out for his inspection.

"Well, I can't judge if I don't see it on, can I?" he said, yielding
superciliously to their mood. Women were incurable. Namur had fallen,
but the room was full of finery, and the finery claimed attention. And
if Paris had fallen, it would have been the same. So he told himself.
Nevertheless the spectacle of the heaped finery and its absorbed
priestess was very agreeable. Lois rose. Laurencine and the priestess
helped her to remove the white gown she wore, and to put on the blue
one. The presence of the male somewhat disturbed the priestess, but the
male had signified a wish and the wish was flattering and had to be
fulfilled. George, cynically, enjoyed her constraint. He might at least
have looked out of the window, but he would not.

"Yes, that's fine," he decided carelessly, when the operation was done.
He did not care a pin which tea-gown Lois had.

"I knew you'd like it better," said Lois eagerly. The other two, in
words or by demeanour, applauded his august choice.

The affair was over. The priestess began to collect her scattered stock
into a light trunk. Behind her back, Lois took hold of Laurencine and
kissed her fondly. Laurencine smiled, and persua