ute--it doesn't seem possible to apply it to her. You know, I don't
believe she's on the stage any more."

Constance asked with good-humored satire, "Why? From the way she looked
in the taxi-cab?"

"Yes," said Violet. "Just from that. There she was in an open taxi, on
Fifth Avenue, at half past four in the afternoon, and she didn't look
somehow, as if how she looked mattered. She wasn't on parade a bit. She
looked smart and successful, but busy. Not exactly irritated at being
held up in the block, but keen to get out of it. The way Frank or John
would look on the way to a directors' meeting. And the way she smiled
when she saw us ... It's not quite exactly her old smile, either, but
it's just as fascinating. It pleased her to see us all right. But as for
her caring a rap what we thought--well, you couldn't imagine it.
Defensive indeed! And poor old John just about went out of his head with
disappointment when we lost her."

"Oh, I'll never deny she's a charmer," said Constance. "All the same ..."

"You wait till you see her!" said Violet.

Violet's report of the glimpse she had had of Rose, together with what
were felt to be the rather amusingly extravagant set of deductions she
had made from it, spread in diminishing ripples of discussion through
all their circle. And then, concentrically, into wider circles. Most of
their own intimate group took Constance's attitude. Forced to concede a
lively curiosity as to what had become of Rose, they still professed
that the way of discretion lay not in gratifying it; at least not at
first-hand. When they were in New York, they kept an eye open for a
sight of her, on the stage and elsewhere, and an alert ear for news,
finding a sort of fearful joy in wondering what they would do if an
encounter took place. They were mildly derisive with Violet over her
_volte-face_.

Secretly, Violet was a good deal closer to agreeing with them than she'd
admit. For, as the effect of her encounter lost its vividness, with the
recession of the encounter itself, she began to suspect that she had
gone unwarranted lengths in her interpretations from it. But under fire,
she stuck to her guns. Her husband, who delighted in her public
attitude, was amazed when she rounded upon him in their domestic
sanctuary, and emphatically took the other side. In his disgust, he made
a very penetrating observation, whose cogency Violet realized, though
she loftily ignored it at the time it was uttered. But thre