When the storm had
blown over and they'd come back to the house--still more, when after
another few weeks they'd gone back to town, he'd still have a world of
his own to withdraw into, a business of his own to absorb him, and she,
with no world at all except the one he was the principal inhabitant of,
would be left outside. But you couldn't have expected her to think of
that while she held him, quivering, in her arms.
BOOK TWO
Love and the World
CHAPTER I
THE PRINCESS CINDERELLA
When the society editor of "America's foremost newspaper," as in its
trademark it proclaims itself to be, announced that the Rodney Aldriches
had taken the Allison McCreas' house, furnished, for a year, beginning
in October, she spoke of it as an ideal arrangement. As everybody knew,
it was an ideal house for a young married couple, and it was equally
evident that the Rodney Aldriches were an ideal couple for it.
In the sense that it left nothing to further realization, it was an
ideal house; an old house in the Chicago sense, built over into
something very much older still--Tudor, perhaps--Jacobean, anyway--by a
smart young society architect who wore soft collars and an uptwisted
mustache, and who, by a perfectly reciprocal arrangement which almost
deserves to be called a form of perpetual motion, owed the fact that he
was an architect to his social position, and maintained his social
position by being an architect.
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