And, just as suddenly as they had begun talking about her, they
stopped. Rodney and the twins, living alone in the perfect house, under
the ministrations of a housekeeper, a head nurse and an undiminished
corps of servants, came to be accepted as a fact that could be mentioned
without any string of commiserations tied to it. Their world wagged on
as usual. If, as John Williamson said, the hole where Rose had been torn
out of it had never been closed up, people managed to walk around the
edge of it with an apparently complete unawareness that it was there.
There were fresher themes for gossip:
Hermione Woodruff's amazing marriage, for example, to a dapper little
futurist painter named Bunting, ten years, the uncharitable said,
younger than she was. And then the Randolphs! After all the thrilling
events of their romance, were they drifting on the reefs? There were
straws that indicated the wind was blowing that way.
This was the state of things when Jimmy Wallace threw his bomb.
There was always a warm, corner in Jimmy Wallace's bachelor heart for
youth, and innocence, and enthusiasm.
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