1
FELIX smiled at her. “Nor even a woman, Rose-Ann?”
“If that’s what being a woman is, no. But you’re mistaken. A woman can
be something else besides that.”
“So it seems. I always had the notion that they understood life better
than I did. But I’m mistaken, I guess.”
“Would you like to be _my_ keeper?” she flashed out. “Would _you_ want
to guard and watch after me, and keep me in the paths I should go in?”
He looked at her intently. “So that—that is what you want?” he hazarded.
For a moment that seemed to him the truth hidden behind all Rose-Ann’s
evasions. But before he had time to read confirmation in her startled
eyes, the waiter came up.
“Is there anything else?—You don’t like the stew today?”
He stood there, a statue of injured pride, looking at the neglected
dish.
“It’s a noble stew,” said Felix. “Nothing wrong with the stew. Bring our
coffee.”
“Yes, sir. Shall I take away the stew?”
“Please.”
He bore it away with a mournful air.
2
Rose-Ann was sitting back in her chair with the air of the discussion
having become too absurd to go on with.
Felix looked inquiry.
“How little we know each other after all,” she said.
“Meaning?”
“Have you forgotten what you said? I hope so.... Felix, if I wanted
those things from my lover ... to be kept and guarded ... would I have
chosen _you_?”
She dealt the blow lightly, looking away from him. He paled a little.
“Perhaps not,” he said sullenly. And then—“Forgive me for being
ridiculous.”
“I only meant,” she said, still looking away, “that I don’t want to
spoil you. I like you as you are.... And if you insist upon being taught
the cave-man virtues, why you will have to get some other woman to teach
them to you. I decline the office.”
“Very well,” he said, “I sha’n’t ask you again.”
3
“It’s just as well the way it has turned out,” she said. “We might have
made ourselves miserable trying to please each other. Now we can be
ourselves.”
“And what is your notion of that?”
“For me—freedom.”
He smiled incredulously, scornfully.
“I’ve been trying,” she said, “against all my principles, to be a
wife—for nearly two years. We both agree that I was a failure at it. I
shall never try to be a wife again, Felix.... As for freedom—You speak
as one who knows what it is. I have still to find out. Do you think you
can forbid me my little cupfuls of mad, mystical peace?”
“Your coffee,” said the waiter.
“If I choose to have adventures, who are you to say No to me?” she said
mockingly.
Felix did not answer.
4
“My paper is moving to Los Angeles this winter,” Rose-Ann said
presently, in a casual tone.
“And I suppose,” he replied, in an equally casual way, “that you are
going along....”
“I hope so,” she said. “The details aren’t settled yet, but I expect to
go.... Perhaps very soon.”
“I forgot to tell you,” he remarked, “that I am writing another play.”
“I should like to see it before I go. Won’t you come in to see me
occasionally? I’m going to stay in the studio until I leave. There’s no
reason why we can’t be friends.”
“None whatever,” he said.
“I’m glad we’ve had this talk, Felix. Talk does straighten things out,
doesn’t it? And now I must hurry back to the office. You _will_ come and
see me?”
“Yes. I’ll stay and finish my coffee if you don’t mind.”
She went away, and he sat there for a long time, smoking cigarettes.
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