"
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.
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