It
pumped blood, too, as well as sap, and made hearts flutter to strange
irregular rhythms with the languorous insolence of its perfumes, and the
soft caressing pressures of its south wind.
It worried Rose nearly mad. She was bound to have gone slack anyway; to
have experienced the well-earned, honest lassitude of a finished
struggle and an achieved victory. Dane & Company had any amount of work
in sight, to be sure--a success of such triumphant proportions as they
had had with _Come On In_, made that inevitable--but it would be months
before any of the new work was wanted.
Alice, who could see plainly enough that something was the matter, kept
urging Rose to run away somewhere for a long vacation. Why not, if it
came to that, put in a few weeks in London and Paris? She was almost
sure to pick up some valuable ideas over there. Rose declined that
suggestion almost sharply. If she'd had any practical training as a
nurse, she'd go over to Paris and stay, but to use that magnificently
courageous tragic city as a source of ideas for a Shuman _revue_ was out
of the question.
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