He smiled mysteriously."You think so, now.Wait till you are gorged."She laughed."You don't know! I could never get enough--never!"His smile became even more mysterious.As he looked away, his profile presented itself to her view--an outline of sheer strength, of tragic sadness--the profile of those who have dreamed and dared and suffered.But the smile, saying no to her confident assertion, still lingered.
"Never!" she repeated.She must compel that smile to take away its disquieting negation, its relentless prophecy of the end of her happiness.She must convince him that he had come back in vain, that he could not disturb her.
"You don't suggest to me the woman who can be content with just people and just things.You will always insist on luxury.But you will demand more." He looked at her again.
"And you will get it," he added, in a tone that sent a wave through her nerves.
Her glance fell.Palmer came in, bringing an odor of cologne and of fresh cigarette fumes.Brent rose.Palmer laid a detaining hand on his shoulder."Do stay on, Brent, and go to supper with us.""I was about to ask you to supper with me.Have you been to the Abbaye?""No.We haven't got round to that yet.Is it lively?""And the food's the best in Paris.You'll come?"Brent was looking at Susan.Palmer, not yet educated in the smaller--and important--refinements of politeness, did not wait for her reply or think that she should be consulted.
"Certainly," said he."On condition that you dine with us tomorrow night.""Very well," agreed Brent.And he excused himself to take leave of his friends."Just tell your chauffeur to go to the Abbaye--he'll know," he said as he bowed over Susan's hand.
"I'll be waiting.I wish to be there ahead and make sure of a table."As the door of the box closed upon him Freddie burst out with that enthusiasm we feel for one who is in a position to render us good service and is showing a disposition to do so."I've known him for years," said he, "and he's the real thing.He used to spend a lot of time in a saloon I used to keep in Allen Street.""Allen Street?" ejaculated Susan, shivering.
"I was twenty-two then.He used to want to study types, as he called it.And I gathered in types for him--though really my place was for the swell crooks and their ladies.How long ago that seems--and how far away!""Another life," said Susan.
"That's a fact.This is my second time on earth._Our_ second time.
I tell you it's fighting for a foothold that makes men and women the wretches they are.Nowadays, I couldn't hurt a fly--could you?
But then you never were cruel.That's why you stayed down so long."Susan smiled into the darkness of the auditorium--the curtain was up, and they were talking in undertones.She said, as she smiled:
"I'll never go down and stay down for that reason again."Her tone arrested his attention; but he could make nothing of it or of her expression, though her face was clear enough in the reflection from the footlights.
"Anyhow, Brent and I are old pals," continued he, "though we haven't seen so much of each other since he made a hit with the plays.He always used to predict I'd get to the top and be respectable.Now that it's come true, he'll help me.
He'll introduce us, if we work it right."
"But we don't want that yet," protested Susan.
"You're ready and so am I," declared Palmer in the tone she knew had the full strength of his will back of it.
Faint angry hissing from the stalls silenced them, but as soon as they were in the auto Susan resumed."I have told Mr.
