“Margie Grey, there are few things you could tell to make me happier,” Beth exclaimed, coming forward with both hands out.

“I know it.  That’s why I came.”

“With Torvin interested, anything is liable to happen.  He’s one of the few in New York who know, and those who buy carefully know he knows.  Really we should celebrate....  Let’s get Vina to go with us, and we three set out in search of an absurd supper——­”

Beth phoned at once.  Her part was utterly disconnected.  She put up the receiver, smiling.

“What have you to say—­about those two going out to dinner?”

“Vina and David Cairns?”

“Exactly.”

A long, low talk followed, but Beth did not tell that she had spurred David to look deeply into Vina’s case, through a remark made by Andrew Bedient....  The Grey One was emancipated, restless.  She bloomed like a lily as she moved about the studio, above the shaded reading-lamps.  Beth felt her happiness, the intensity of it, and rejoiced with her.  Bedient came in for discussion presently, and the park episode.  Beth, who had not heard, grew cold, and remembered her own call at Mrs. Wordling’s apartment, with the poster....  The Grey One was speaking as if Beth had heard about the later park affair: 

“...  Sometimes that woman seems so obvious, and again so deep.”

“I have failed to see the deep part,” Beth ventured, turning her face from the light.

“Evidently she interests Mr. Bedient.”

“I wonder if she really does?” Beth said idly.  The Grey One was not a tale-bearer.  She would not have spoken at all, except granting Beth’s knowledge.

“I don’t like to see him lose caste that way,” the Grey One went on.  “He’s too splendid, and yet she’s the sort that twirls men.  She knows he has interested all of us, and doubtless wants to show her strength.  Possibly he hasn’t thought twice about it.  That’s what Vina says.  And then Mrs. Wordling was one of those first asked to meet him.  I wish David Cairns hadn’t done that——­”

“David’s idea was all right,” Beth said slowly.  “He thought one of her kind would set us all off to advantage.  Then, I was painting her poster——­”

“It would have been only a little joke in a man’s club, but the Smilax took to it as something looked and yearned for long....  Two things appear funny to me.  Mrs. Wordling has lived at the Club part of the year for three years, and yet didn’t know the Park was locked at midnight.  And she, who has done all the crying about consequences, was the one who told me——­”

Beth was beginning to understand.  Here was an opening such as she had awaited:  “What is her story?” she asked.

“Why, they met between eleven and twelve coming into the Club—­one of those perfect nights.  Wordling dismissed her carriage and talked a little while before going in.  The Park looked inviting for a stroll—­full moon, you know.  They crossed.  Wordling didn’t know or had forgotten about midnight locking.  ‘His talk was so interesting,’ she said....  It was after one, when Mr. Bedient hailed a page at the Club entrance.”