He went straight home and sought his sister. She had that moment come in
from tea after a matinee. She talked about the play--how badly it was
acted--and about the women she had seen at tea--how badly dressed they
were. "It's hard to say which is the more dreadful--the ugly, misshapen
human race without clothes or in the clothes it insists on wearing. And
the talk at that tea! Does no one ever say a pleasant thing about
anyone? Doesn't anyone ever do a pleasant thing that can be spoken
about? I read this morning Tolstoy's advice about resolving to think all
day only nice thoughts and sticking to it. That sounded good to me, and
I decided to try it." Ursula laughed and squirmed about in her
tight-fitting dress that made an enchanting display of her figure. "What
is one to do? _I_ can't be a fraud, for one. And if I had stuck to my
resolution I'd have spent the day in lying. What's the matter, Fred?"
Now that her attention was attracted she observed more closely. "What
_have_ you been doing? You look--frightful!"
"I've broken with her," replied he.
"With Jo?" she cried. "Why, Fred, you can't--you can't--with the
wedding only five days away!"
"Not with Jo."
Ursula breathed noisy relief. She said cheerfully: "Oh--with the other.
Well, I'm glad it's over."
"Over?" said he sardonically. "Over? It's only begun."
"But you'll stick it out, Fred. You've made a fool of yourself long
enough. What was the girl playing for? Marriage?"