“I think you’ve got a decidedly wrong impression of my friendship for Mr. Stillman,” she said, after some deliberation.  “I really know him only slightly.  He was good enough, or rather I should say Mrs. Condor was good enough, to include me in a little musical evening.  That was on the night you saw me at the Palace.  We dropped down for a dance or two after the music was over.  I’d never been to such a place before, and I dare say I’ll never go again.  It was just one of those experiences that come to a person out of a clear sky.  It’s over as quickly as a shower.”

“Oh, don’t you worry!  There’ll be other showers.  I’m going to see to that.  You know, the more I talk to you the more amazing you are....  Fancy your graduating from dinky church things into Stillman musicales, and Palace dansants, and young Edington, and old lady Condor, all of a sudden ... and getting away with it as if you were an old hand at the game.  Say, if you’re that apt I’ll give you a post-graduate course in high life that’ll make your hair curl forty-seven ways.  I don’t mean anything vulgar or common ... you understand.  I’m a gentleman, Miss Robson, at that.”

He stopped for a moment to ring the bell for the Japanese boy.  Claire maintained a discreet silence.  She had a feeling that it would be just as well to let him take his full rein.  The servant came in and cleared away the empty bouillon-cups.  Fish was served.

Flint took one taste of the fish and shoved it away impatiently.  “You know, a fellow like me gets awfully bored at all this sort of thing.”  He swept the room with an inclusive gesture.  “Not that my wife isn’t the best little woman in the world, but you know.  She’s got standards and convictions and all that sort of rot.  I can’t bundle her off for dinner and a little lark at the Red Paint or Bonini’s or some other Bohemian joint like them....  You know what I mean, no rough stuff ... but a good feed, and two kinds of wine, and a cigarette with the small black.  Just gay and frivolous....  Of course I can get any number of girls to run around and help eat up all the nourishment I care to provide.  But, good Lord! that isn’t it!  I’m looking for somebody with human intelligence.  Not that I want to discuss free verse and the Little Theater movement.  But I like to feel that if I took such a crazy notion the person sitting opposite me could qualify for a good comeback....  I like my home and everything, but....  Oh, well, what’s the use in pretending?  I’m just as human as your friend Ned Stillman and I’ve got just as keen an eye for class.”

He sat back in his seat with an air of satisfaction, waiting for Claire’s reply.  She had been calm enough while he talked, but under the tenseness of his silent expectancy she felt her heart bound.

“Dammit all!  Why don’t you say something?” he blurted out.  “I know, you need a little wine.  I’m going down-stairs and pick out the best in the cellar ... myself.”